


The Weight of my Sins

by DarlingRed



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bunker, Cuddling, Domestic, Fallen Cas, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Season 9, Slow Burn, Wings, h/c, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 02:53:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 40,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8560834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarlingRed/pseuds/DarlingRed
Summary: When Castiel fell, that was just the beginning of his problems. Hurt, confused and ready to face whatever punishment Heaven or Hell dishes out, he hides from the two people that miss him the most. While Sam is recovering from the trials, Dean starts a trial of his own to find the lost angel. Eventual Destiel. My take on Season 9 COMPLETE





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I am in the middle of reposting everything from FF.net. I hope you enjoy this. And it is being reuploaded because instead of chapter I decided just to make it easier for everyone and not making anyone wait. I hope you all love this, and comments make my heart sing. 
> 
> I'll post the second and final chapter tomorrow if everyone likes it :)

Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own any of this and belongs to Kripke and CW. Not my bbys

Everything hurt.

Not just physically. But the aching in his back and pounding in his head was offset by the deep, milling anxiety that twisted in his gut like a knife. Stumbling against the blinding pain, he started walking.

It took him a few miles to realize Jimmy's shoes were not made for comfort; what shook him more than the biting pain was the realization that after these years, he felt it.

The silence was deafening. No longer could he hear the heavenly host, the constant chatter was replaced with the unfamiliar sound of buzzing insects and normal happenings of the woods he was so painfully exiled to. The deep dark of the night made it all the more foreboding; Cas jumped at a few large sounding noises, his heart thumping in his chest wildly. The anxiety, the fear coursed through his veins as he picked up his pace. Nothing was right; he wasn't supposed to feel this way. Not the pulse pounding terror that he felt alone in those dark woods.

And so he walked.

Castiel was becoming more and more aware of the gnawing sensation in his stomach, the parched feeling on his lips and tongue. It was in that moment of quiet desperation that he noticed civilization up ahead- not much but an old gas station with a lone flickering bulb that barely illuminated singular gas pump, a closed dollar store and a 24 hour Laundromat. Looking around quickly, he darted, limping slightly as his sore feet begged him to stop moving altogether. The bell jingled too loudly for his taste as he opened the door to the Laundromat, surveying the surroundings for danger. His ragged breath served only to remind him how human he was, and how very much alone and fragile this new body was. He didn't want to push it.

"Hello?" He ventured. Nothing came from the building, it was dead silence and his footfalls echoed in their wake.

Catching his reflection in a reflecting mirror overhead Cas realized how bad he looked. How abnormal. Blood splattered over his collar and down his white dress shirt.

"Am I bleeding?" He thought to himself, bringing a shaking hand neck and wincing as he found a large gash near his collar bone that had torn through his once white dress shirt. His clothing was in a distressing state of disrepair. A few buttons missing from the shirt, the faithful trench coat hung off him, damp and muddy, revealing the length of his travel in that night.

Toeing off his shoes, he winced as his bare feet came in contact with the ice cold tile floor. They were sore and swollen, Jimmy's Sunday shoes doing nothing to cushion them in his journey. 

Glancing around again fearfully and swallowing the bile that threatened to rise as his stomach once against panged with hunger, he tossed off the offending articles. It wasn't until he was shrugging off his blood stained shirt that he nearly doubled over in pain; his back ached. 

Deep, down to the bone pain radiated off him as he contorted his body to fling the shirt to the floor.

Castiel glanced again at the mirror and cocked his head at his reflection. His pale skin practically glowed in the florescent lighting, but large black and blue bruises crawled up his back and painfully around his ribcage. He watched with morbid curiosity as they booked with every breath he took in, his rib line peeking through the dark expanses of injured flesh.

He literally fell. Metatron had done nothing to assist with a smooth landing. His back ached as he arched it, and stopped as the crippling pain overtook him. After a moment, he stopped looking. Leaving on his pants he threw the soiled items into an open washer only to realize he had no money. Not that that matter, he had no idea how to use the old, rusted contraption.

It was there, while he was contemplating his move from there that the small, chiming bell from the front door went off.

Cas's head whipped up to see a large man, a ripped suit and a fierce expression that bruised his angry face.

"Castiel." It wasn't a question.

Castiel felt pure terror as he realized he was weaponless; Metatron had taken his angel blade.

"Please, brother, I never meant-"He tried reasoning, stumbling over his words.

A choked laugh came from the fallen angel before him as he moved forward.

"You never do, do you?" He was getting closer. Too close. "Yet hear I stand, my wings burned off like something damned and you stand here to tell me you didn't mean too?" His face was red with uncontrolled hate and fury.

"Brother ple-"A large meaty fist swiped Cas's face with deadly accuracy, the force of the blow pushing his already abused back into the washing machines.

Cas looked up, blood pouring out of his nose as he held his face. He never felt pain like this, not from something like a broken nose. When the angel came to swing again, Cas brought up his left arm, deflecting the blow but pushing him further into the machines. He grunted as pain exploded in his arm and now chest as his brother left a punishing blow to his exposed ribs.

A glint; the angel still had his blade and was brandishing it for the killing blow. Cas felt adrenaline course through him, stronger than his anxiety, stronger than his regret and pain. So he pushed.

The fallen angel's eyes widened as Cas pushed him into a small vending machine behind them, the glass shattering with an ear piercing snap. The surprise was all he needed; he maybe out muscled but not outsmarted. The blade was loose in his brother's grasp, so quick as he could with he was sure was a fractured arm, Cas pushed the blade under the tender area of his attackers neck.

He stopped, his chest heaving with exertion.

"Brother." He gasped, pushing the tip of the blade closer to his throat. "Do not make me do this. I can fix this!" He gritted out. He needed him to know, he needed them ALL to know that he would fix this.

The angel smiled sadly. "No Castiel. You cannot." Cas tried to move as he saw the dangerous glint in the eye of the once celestial being, and managed a loud "NO!" before the angel fell hard on the tip of the blade, slicing up and through him, impaling himself on his own weapon.

With shaking hands, Cas lowered the deceased angel to the floor. It was a blasphemy; no blinding light, no scorched wings or telltale sign that the supernatural creature had passed. Only a ragged breath and the pouring of crimson on a dirty Laundromat floor in rural Colorado.

He sat there for a moment, maybe an hour, he wasn't sure. All that he knew was that he was cold, his body betraying him as it shivered in the early morning temperature. He knew he had to leave. Someone would be there eventually. Realizing his clothing was still destroyed, he walked numbly over to a large sign that said Lost and Found. Digging through cheap towels, underwear and old magazines he found a white shirt and worn hoodie which he quickly pulled on.  
They were a little big, but the rough cotton seemed to help his trembling flesh. He also swiped a pair of mismatched socks and with a grimace, pulled them over his swollen feet. Cas stepped gingerly over the blood on the floor, his heart seizing as his attention was once again brought to his fallen brother. Dead. Because of him.

He choked out a sob as he re-tied Jimmy's old shoes, the weight of his sins bearing down on him, causing more pain than the broken nose or the fractured arm. Standing up he quickly grabbed the discarded weapon and stuffed it awkwardly up his hoodie sleeve. About to walk out the door he noticed the broken vending machine, the contents spilled on the floor. Water, cheap off brand chips and assorted sugary confections littered the floor. Shamefully, he bent down and scrambled to pick as much of the fallen merchandise as possible, realizing with overwhelming guilt that he was stealing. But his hunger was taking over him and his rational thought was replaced with his basic urges.

Dawn was approaching too fast, the dew of the morning clung to the glass windows and to the grass outside as he trudged along, still limping. Chugging, and nearly choking on the lukewarm water he had just stolen, he felt a curious weight in his pocket. Furrowing his brow, he pushed the water into the bulging hoodie pocket of junk food and reached into the dirty pant pocket.

His phone.

Castiel reverently stroke the cracked screen, the battery sign only a bar away from completely shutting off. He pushed the few buttons Sam had showed him, his heart stopping as he saw the name Dean Winchester before him. He could call Dean. Tell him what happened.

He felt his heart drop as he realized he didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve to be saved; he didn't deserve the Righteous Man to come swooping in as he always did. He and Dean barely parted on good terms from his last disastrous display of his lack of faith in the older Winchester. He still felt the heavy burden of the Dean's disappointment.

But at that moment, all Castiel wanted to do, was go home.

 

____________

 

A low groan broke the still silence of the bunker, making Dean's skin jump; his mind elsewhere as he closed the chat box with Charlie. Instantly he switched from Hunter to brother.

He closed the distance between the library and Sam's room in a surprising amount of time, opening the cracked door wider, almost afraid of what he'd find. The hospital had been unpleasant. Dean had been so rattled he nearly dropped all his faux insurance cards at the check in and couldn't for the life of him remember the alias's they had been living with the past year. Sam had been hooked up to every machine imaginable; he breathing had been too slow and too shallow. For someone so big he looked small and frail in the white bed, tubes and needles keeping him alive and hydrated. It took a few days of constant care, tossing and turning on a small cot a sympathetic nurse drug in for Dean after he fell out of the straight back chair too many times. Sam's fever had broken on day 3, causing Dean to finally relax enough to eat some shitty hospital food. Though he was in and out of consciousness the doctor's allowed him to leave (it might have been something to do with Sam muttering about demons when he woke and their medical insurance cards coming back less than up to code). Sam was to be on strict bed rest, and the doctors where still unsure of what happened or how he snapped out of it.

The door creaked a bit as he pushed in open carefully, the ray of the light left on in the hall breaking through the oppressive darkness and shedding light on Sam's confused face.

"What the hell?" He grumbled, running a hand over his face, feeling the scratching growth of hair on his face. "Did we win? What happened?"

Dean sighed heavily, the weight lifting from his shoulders as he stepped into the room.

"Um, let's see." He said, sitting down on the edge of Sam's bed flicking on the light on the bedside table. Sam grimaced as the light hit his sensitive eyes, still looking confused. "You were in a coma, pretty much the highest fever the doctors had seen in a living adult. Props for that by the way." Sam rolled his eyes. "You've been out for 6 days. Most I can see is that you just needed to rest. Your body just shut down Sammy."

Sam nodded, looking around his sparsely decorated room, taking note everything was still in order; dusty first editions in the corner, the desk with the lone lamp and laptop still sitting untouched since the last time he used it.

"Crowley?" He asked and jerked his head in the direction of the water bottle he saw resting behind Dean on his end table. He downed the whole thing, his face relaxing instantly.

"Yeah, he's alive. And human...ish." Dean corrected, almost feeling guilty when he remembered he hadn't left food for the imprisoned ex demon for lunch today. Almost. He guy had been crying when he left him there last time, blubbing something about Adele and how sad her songs where.

Sam's eyes snapped to Dean's face with sudden revelation.

"Cas?" He asked tentatively, his eyes scanning Dean's face for anything. A flicker, the muscle in Dean's jaw clenched and his eyes dropped. No one else would have noticed it other than Sam, so in tune with his brothers facial expressions. He knew when he was happy, sad, excited, or in this case, downright devastated.

"Dean-"

"Let's not Sam, ok?" Dean forced a grin getting up suddenly, smoothing his hands over his wrinkled plaid shirt. "Now you smell like shit, go take a shower."

Dean turned to leave stopping at the door as Sam whispered, "I'm sorry, Dean." He grasped the door frame hard enough to white his knuckles, his stomach dropping.

"Yea."

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Cas shivered in the cold night air. The cold air cut through the hoodie he had swiped 3 days ago like it was nothing, his skin already burning from the chapping wind of the Colorado weather. He had walked farther into a larger city; the law enforcement forced him farther and farther into the cities center. He attempted to blend into his surroundings, not wanting any attention. He received no mercy, not that he had expected any; or wanted it. His suffering was his own doings, he reminded him that nightly as he curled up as tightly as he could in a cold corner, his breath coming out in short puffs as he struggled to let sleep claim him, the only reprieve he allowed himself.

Food had been difficult to come by. With only a few waded up bills in his pocket and the left over bag of chips and the flat soda, he realized quickly how weak human's where when they denied themselves food. It was at these times he thought of Dean, of hamburgers and the warmth of the Impala. The smell of cheap whiskey and leather; he would thumb the phone in his pocket, wishing he could call. Wishing it would work. It died hours after he left the Laundromat- when he was angel he could easily recharge anything like this with a simple thought, a turn of his head. Now he had no idea what to do with the blank screened device. But he kept it, and on the cold nights he held it to his chest, a reminder that there had once been something different. That someone had once cared for him.

A harsh cough wracked Cas's frail frame, he winced as he wrapped his arms around him sides, the bruising still affecting him. Its then when the street lights above him seemed to swirl, his body felt warmer and he felt himself fallings. Again.

SPNSPNSPN

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Dean brought his head up from the desk, apparently where he had fallen asleep. His laptop still open in front of him, flashing and beeping incessantly and demanding his attention; groggily he hit the unmute and all but winced at the shrill response he received.

"Dean! Dammit, answer me!" Came Charlie's clearly frustrated voice over his laptops speakers.

"What? Charlie, what?" He wasn't awake enough for this; it had been days since he first sought out Charlie's help in locating the fallen angels. One fallen angel in particular.

"Dean, I think I may have a few locations that we haven't checked yet."

"Ok, lay it on me." Grabbing the mug that was sitting half hazard on the edge of the table, he took a gulp, grimaced and set down the now chilly cup of coffee.

"We have San Francisco, Italy and Colorado." She was scanning her computer screen diligently as Dean waited. "Colorado seems like our best bet. There were no sightings but I caught this on of the street cam."

Dean quirked his eyebrow, and sighed heavily looking down. He was anywhere but the computer screen. He looked up at the file that now was enlarged over his small screen. A small man, dressed in a hoodie, walking down the street. Dean heaved a breath, looking closer at the pixelated photograph. No trench coat, no carefully calculated steps, just a broken man in a hoodie in the dead of night.

"I know, Dean, but-"Charlie started, even over her webcam she saw his distress and downright anger.

"Yea I know. Long shots. "

"You should go." She started even as he was already shaking his head.

"Charlie I can't leave Sam, he's just now on the mend.' He stopped, and looked at the screen again. 'Especially for someone that just happens to have his hair color-"He stopped, rose from his chair with a start and pulled the laptop closer, tugging the power cord out of the wall in the process.

"Dean, what is it?" Charlie exclaimed, her face still hidden underneath the photograph that Dean had almost an inch away from his face.

"Holy shit." Whispering, he set it down and dared himself to smile.

There, just a small glint of metal sticking out from the edge of the man's right hand sleeve was showing.

An angel blade.

________________

Cas was being awaken to cold, rough hands, digging through his pockets and tearing at his clothing. He groaned, his consciousness hanging by a thread as the cold night air hit him like a bus. He felt his phone being dug from his deep pockets; that woke him up.  
"No!" He gasped, struggling against his assailants, swinging blindly in the darkness. His limbs where heavy and refused to move as he was so accustomed, his once fluid motions hindered by the weight of his own limitations.  
A sharp jab knocked him back down on the ground, gravel digging into his sides, his hoodie ripped from him as the vagabonds grabbed all his earthly possessions, and he could do nothing to stop it.  
Cas grunted pitifully as a few swift kicks as his faceless assailants delivered a few swift kicks to his ribs, keeping him down.

"Nothing personal, friend." Came a raspy voice, Castiel assumed it was one of his attackers. "but you're as good as dead."

"Please..." He coughed, wrapping his arms around himself as the bitter air picked up, seemingly just to torment him personally.

Cas laid still as he heard their rushed footfalls fade into the darkness. The all too familiar taste of blood pungent in his mouth, spitting the metallic substance as he traced the inside of his mouth with his tongue, wincing as he came in contact with the split caused by an errant boot.

He was only idle for what seemed like moments, but one again having been awoken by a harsh nudging at already bruised ribs.

"Ok buddy time to go." Proclaimed a bored, authoritative voice above him. "Can't lie in the middle of the alley."

Rolling over, Cas coughed, whimpering as his lungs burned and his ribs constricted in agony.

"I don't have any place to go." Castiel wheezed, sitting up and leaning away from the patrolling officers bored glare.

"Fine." The officer drawled, gripping him by his upper arms and pulling him up, ignoring the sharp gasp from the smaller, trembling man. "You're coming with me to the station. Sleep it off until tomorrow."

Cas growled at the implication. "I am not inebriated."

Castiel was being put in cuffs and shoved uncaring into the back of the lite up patrol car that had cutoff the alley. Any other time Castiel would have put up a fight, flew off in a fit of righteous anger, even though the officers where only doing their job. But now, he curled up in the back of the seat, relishing the warmth that the patrol car offered, a stark contrast to the biting breeze outdoors.

He barely paid attention as the nameless officer radioed the station, muttering and saying numbers that Castiel didn't understand. "Where are you taking me?" He ventured carefully. So far his limited experience as a human left much to be desired. But he deserved it, he reminded himself harshly.

"Shut up."

And he did.

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Reaching the station, Castiel was roughly taken from the warm expanse of the car, his handcuffs still painfully twisted behind his back.  
"I will not struggle, may I please have these restraints loosened?" Pleading, his face flushed and eyes squinting as they reached in the inside of the brightly lit police station.  
The officer paid him no mind, filled out some paperwork at the desk and handed him off to a tired looking man with a mustache and salt and pepper hair.

The older man took in Castiel's haggard and beaten appearance like it was a occurance he had seen all too often in his line of work, that Castiel was no different from the dozen of homeless and downtrodden of the city. He wasn't the Angel of Thursday, he was not the angel who had risked the fires of Hell to save an innocent soul or the one who brought the fall of Heaven and the heavenly host; he was just a man. A vagrant.

SPNSPNSPN

Dean had packed his bag. And unpacked his bag. And packed it again.  
Kicking the side of his bed in frustration, he sat down hard on the edge, his head cradled in his hands. A knock made him sit up quickly, a smile smacked so fast on his face, even he didn't believe it.  
"Sammy, you shouldn't be out of bed." He Lectured, seeing his younger brother leaning into his bedroom, requiring with the assistance of the door frame a little too much for Dean's taste.

"You leaving?" Sam inquired, motioning his head in the direction of the half packed suitcase that was splayed over his bed.

"No! No." He stammered, pushing the suitcase off the side of he bed, shaking his head as he did so. "Just setting up my room, found some old bag in the back of the Impala."

Sam just looked at him, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You've been settled in for weeks. You're practically buying scented candles for the bathroom, what is going on?"

Dean sighed, knowing he had been caught. He returned to his place on the edge of the bed, looking down at his hands.

"Charlie thinks she may have a lead on Cas." He muttered. "It's probably nothing. Probably not even him. Just saw an angel blade on some bastard in Colorado."

Sam lit up at the news. "Dean, that's great! When are we leaving?"

Dean was shaking his head before Sam had finished his sentence, leaving Sam with a look of bewilderment at his brothers reaction.

"You're not going anywhere." He stood up, brushing past his younger brother. "And neither am I."

"What are you talking about Dean? It's Cas!" He was still pale, his exasperation expending more of his energy then he thought possible.

"No it's probably not Sam!" He yelled, his fear leaking through and tainting into anger. "I am not leaving. Not again. I promised you back at that church, I am going to get you well. This is it for me Sammy."

His younger brother looked at him in disbelief, his face pulled into a fierce determination as he crossed the room to face the angry man.

"Dean." Dean refused to meet his gaze. "Dean, look at me!"

Dean's eyes where heavy as he met his brothers, he felt all that guilt, all that pain thorough his eyes and it hurt him. Hurt him that once again his brother was making sacrifices for him.

"Please, go. I'll stay, I'll be fine. I'll have Charlie come down for a few days, she'll call you if anything goes wrong.' Sam paused, making his brother keep his gaze. 'I know you are here for me Dean. Just like you've always been, just like you will be. I can't have you give up everything again, for me."

Dean scoffed. "We've been without Cas before. We can find him later, if he's even still alive."

Sam rolled his eyes. "We don't have time for this shit!" He coughed deeply, grabbing for Dean's support as he nearly fell to his knees. He was still too weak.

"Sam you need to get back to bed." Dean instructed, holding his taller brother up, carefully leading him down the hall to Sam's room.

Sam nodded, which worried Dean even more. Bringing him to the bed and pulling back the chilled sheets, he helped him back into bed and pulled the covers up around the shivering man.

As Dean reached to turn off the lamp, Sam grabbed his wrist forcefully, drawing Dean's attention on back to him.

"Promise me. Call Charlie."

All Dean could do was nod and turn out the light.

He repacked his suitcase.

________________

Castiel sat huddled in the far corner of the cell, trying to make himself as small as possible against he scrutiny of his holding cell room mates. An elderly drunkard kept to himself, splayed against her bench across from the fallen angel, a man with a wicked looking black eye and a clenched jaw hadn't looked away from the wall once, and a heavy set gentlemen with a gold tooth eyed them all like meat for sale.  
Cas sat, trembling with his knees to his cheat. Never had he felt smaller, more out of control then he did at this moment. His head was pounding, he gritted his teeth against the onslaught of pain, his ribs ached, his back pressed hard up against the concert wall despite its groaning. How far he had fallen to come to this. Imprisoned in a human cell with no way out and no one to call.

"What are you in for?" Demanded the man with the gold tooth, clearly by his tone he was not requesting.  
Cas looked up, startled. He didn't know what to say. Should he say anything?  
"I'm not sure. Loitering, I suppose." He replied, his voice evened ruffed than usual, the weight of his depression holding him tightly.  
The man shrugged, clearly not impressed with Castiel's story.

It remained quiet like that for several hours. The drunkard had been taken home by what seemed to be his son, a few hours passed that the man with the black eye was even released.  
Though there was no windows, Cas could still feel the shift in the hours, and the how the new batch of officers now carried coffee to the break room and looked more awake then the passed security guards.  
The gold toothed man paid him no more questions, but his diligent gaze left Castiel a little more then unsettled, so even when sleep beckoned he remained dutifully awake. Though he had nothing left for anyone to take, the assault was still fresh in his mind and fears.

Food had been brought, but even if the frightened man wanted to eat, it was quickly devoured by his portly cell mate. Castiel gave no complaints even as his stomach ached from the lack of food the past week.

An officer came to escort the gold toothed man out of the cell, and looked at Cas with sympathy clear on here face and tone.

"Hun, is there anyone we can call for you?"

Glancing up, he replied sorrowfully. "There is no one."  
She nodded, explained to him that he could only stay one more day and that she could give him a number to a home that helped "people in his condition."

He didn't want to leave. Isn't this where bad people went?

SPNSPNSPN

The Impala gripped the road right around a corner, her tires squealing in protest as Dean slowed her down apologetically.  
He was headed to Colorado. The faster he got there and realized it wasn't Cas, then he could get home to Sam, who wouldn't shut up about him at least trying until he finally loaded up his packed suitcase he had left by the door since breakfast.  
Sam was given strict instructions not to feed Crowley, I mean let's be honest, he literally bites.  
Charlie arrived faster than Dean thought humanly possible, loaded up with DVDs, junk food and protein shakes for Sam. Sam was looking better, Dean had to admit. Still pale and weak but the coughing had settled and he had been able to start keeping food down.

The road ahead went flat for miles ahead of him, causing him to lose himself in his own head for a while. His phone gave a violent ring, causing Dean to swear loudly and swerve back into his own lane.

Charlie.

He answered quickly, his gut clenching in panic. "What's wrong? He ok?" Already preparing to turn around.

Charlie answered quickly trying to reassure Dean with the tone of her voice.

"Dean, calm down. Sam is fine." Came the redhead voice on the other end.

Dean visibly relaxed back into his seat. "Okay the redhead's what's up."

"It's Cas." Charlie paused as a choosing her words carefully so not too upset the older brother. "It's him, in Colorado I mean."

Suddenly Deans phone came alive with the loud vibration.

"Just pull over for a second."

Dean clenched his jaw and pulled over quickly, the dust settling around the old car as he settled.

He opened his phone to view the photo Charlie had sent him.

A mug shot.

There is no doubt it was Castiel; his face was drawn, invisibly in pain. Blood was smeared down the side of his face and he is cowering like a kicked puppy. That was Cas, he was alive.

"What did he do?" Dean asked, running a hand over tired face as he stared the picture, still trying to convince himself that Cas was actually alive. That he wasn't too late.

"It stated public intoxication and loitering.' Charlie said, clearly unconvinced at the implications that we're being put upon the angel. 'But Cas doesn't seem like the drinking type."

Dean gripped the wheel tightly again, its leather cracking underneath his frustration. His stomach threatened revolt as he thought back to the future That Zachariah had allowed him to see; A broken fallen angel, surviving only under a daze of drugs and alcoholism.

"He's not." He flipped back to the turnpike, pushing baby faster. "Thanks for the heads up. I'm bringing him home Charlie."

That future would not come to fruition; not he had anything to say about it.

SPNSPNSPN

The police station was a little hole in the wall, nestled right in the outskirts of town. Dean parked The impala quickly upfront, resting his head on her steering wheel, taking in a shaky breath and mustering up all the courage he could manage. This weekend had been hell, and he should know; he's been there. The searching, second-guessing and denial seem to have been long ago as he strode into the station, pocketful of bills to ease along the process.

The officer at the counter was a kind looking woman, nursing a large coffee, but by the look of Exhaustion on her face it was doing a little good.

"Can I help you?" She didn't look up.

"Yeah I'm looking for a guy who got picked up a day or two ago."

"You a relative?" She asked pulling up her computer screen.

"Something like that."

The woman shrugged, not that it really mattered.

"His name is Castiel.' He offered when the silence become too much. 'If that'll help speed this along."

The officer rolled her eyes, handed him some forms to sign and pointed through two large doors.

"It's lucky you came,' she exclaimed as he was about to enter the other room. 'about to kick him out here in an hour or two. Pretty cold outside."

Dean said his jaw, nodded and continued through the double doors.

A few security checks later, he found himself outside the holding cell. The guard nodded him in and Dean Slowly approached the large holding cell.

There was no tan trench coat, just the huddled mass in the corner, shivering beneath a gray torn T-shirt. He looked smaller, fragile and skinny; like a strong wind to carry him away at a moments notice, or that he could sink into that wall he was so desperately clinging to.

"Cas?" Dean ventured, scooting closer the door of the cell, the guard looking bored as he contained to hold it open.  
Deans heart dropped to the ground as the man lifted his matted and bloody head. His once brilliant blue eyes where dull and sunken, his skin pale and crusted with dried blood that Dean had seen in the mug shot only hours before.

"Hello Dean."

_______________

Dean couldn't focus on anything besides Cas's hollow face. His eyes were glassy and he shifted closer to his corner, Dean catching a quick grimace that Cas attempted to stifle.  
"Cas, we've looked everywhere for you man." Dean explained stepping forward, moving to help the huddled man to an upright position. Castiel cowered at his advance, muttering a low "I'm sorry." He wouldn't bring his gaze from the dirty cell floor.  
Dean stopped, confused. Crouching down slowly, he waved his hand to get Cas's attention.  
"Hey, Cas.' His voice was soft, his heart breaking as Castiel looked up sorrowfully. 'Im not here to hurt you. Just wanna take you home, OK?"

Cas shook his head, his eyes widening. "I don't deserve any kindness, Dean. I deserve to be here, I deserve anything that happens as a result of what I have done!"

Dean dropped his head, clenching his fists at his friends admission.

"Cas, I did not drive almost 8 hours to hear your pity party!" He raved, standing up and ignoring the confused look from the guards. "Now stand the hell up so we can go home!"

Squinting his eyes angrily, Cas stood up unsteadily, wavering as he took a few steps towards the older Winchester. He was standing close enough for Dean to really take in his friend's haggard appearance; he was gaunt, dark circles had made their home under his deep blue eyes. Dried blood and bruises stained his pale skin in a blasphemy of black and sickly yellow. He was trembling, struggling to hold himself up.

Dean took his upper arm, leading him out of the cold jail cell. Cas stumbled that As he made his way out, still shaking.  
Dean noticed the shaking as they made their way out, he looked at the shorter man square in the face, stopping before they reached the door that led to the cold Colorado day.  
"Cas, when is the last time you've eaten?" He asked, almost afraid of the response.

Blue eyes flicked to the ground, looking ashamed he answered, "Two days. Before that I managed to find a few things." He didn't elaborate.

Setting his jaw, Dean strode purposefully towards the door forcing the younger man to follow.

As soon as they hit the outdoors, Dean stopped and took a deep breath, reigning in his emotions.

"Get in the car well get you something to eat. There's a motel a few blocks away."

Castiel nodded and said nothing as he slipped into the passenger seat of the Impala, Dean noticed him close his eyes as he sat down in the worn leather seats and inhale, his mouth upturned in a quick smile that was gone before Dean could blink.

They drove in silence, They rode in silence and quietly pulled up to the motel that was just a few minutes away from the jail.

Dean checked into the motel still dragging along hesitant Castiel, his strength was rapidly disappearing if his stumbling to the room was any indication.

Dean quickly locked the door and motioned to Cas, "Sit down." He ordered, leaving no room for protests. Cas shot him an indignant glare but did as he was told.

Dean took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt, sitting close to the angel trying to ignore the smell it came from him.

"Where are you hurt." He demanded, is again taking in the dark-haired disheveled appearance.

Cas raised his chin before answering. "I'm fine."

Dean growled and threw up his arms in frustration. "Dammit Cas don't pull this crap!"

Cas shrank away from Dean as he bellowed, his eyes immediately dropping to the stained carpet as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.  
That stopped Dean. Cas's shoulders were curled inwards, his eyes averted.  
Taking a deep breath, Dean reached out and grasped Cas's shoulder carefully, grounding him.

"I'm sorry for yelling.' He started, trying to get him to look him in the eye. 'Weve been really worried, I just want to make sure you're ok."

Castiel's head came up as if he was just remembering something important. "Sam. Is he alright?"

Dean smiled, albeit sadly. "Yea he pulled through. Still on the mend though."  
Cas nodded and looked visibly relieved.

Dean once again looked the fallen angel up and down, his skin smeared with dirt and blood would make it easier for infection and harder to find his wounds. It's not like he knows when Jimmy had a tetanus shot last.

"Listen, buddy you probably need a shower. We'll eat after we get you fixed up.' He paused at Castiel's inquisitive head tilt. 'Dude you smell like shit and you look worse. Not really up for debate."  
Cas nodded and turned to the bathroom. Dean turned to call Charlie, the phone ringing for too long in his opinion.  
"What's the word?" Came Charlie's chipper voice, the sound of a loud movie resonated through the phone.  
Dean let out a breath he didn't realize he had held, sighing in relief.  
"I got Cas. Patching him up and we'll be on our way home." He stopped, listening closely to something in the background of the bunker. "Dude is that Crowley I hear?"

"Uhhh..." Charlie stumbled over her words, and Dean heard a loud shhhing.

"Put my brother on!" Demanded Dean. Dammit he couldn't leave for one day...

"Hey Dean, it's Sam. How's Cas?" Sam asked, sounding far too much like he was sucking up to his older brother.

"Sammy-" dean cautioned.

"Dude, we couldn't leave him down there. Have you been down there? It's freezing and smells like mothballs."

Dean was about to retort when he heard struggling from the bathroom and a loud gasp.

"Call ya back." He slammed the phone on the table, lunging to the bathroom door, flinging it open with no regard to Cas's modesty.

He'd found Cas dripping wet, a towel around his midsection and looking like perplexed and startled. The shower was sputtering steaming hot water, steam curling around them choking the air.  
Dean almost started to laugh at the situation, at the angry ex angel and that he couldn't figure out a simple shower head, but that was until he really looked at him. His hair was dripping wet, the dark mess sticking out every which direction. That's when he saw Cas's punishment for falling; dark, sick yellow bruising had worked its way down his spine and around his ribs, he could barely noticed the two identically slim white scars that ran past his shoulder blades.

"Shit, Cas..." Was all he could manage, Cas noticing where his gaze headed and quickly turning his back towards the still steaming shower.

"I apologize for my indecency, the shower startled me."

"Screw that Cas, let me see."

Cas looked at him hard before turning around slowly.

Having been thrown into a many brick walls, cars, off bridges, (the list goes on) Dean was all too familiar with the pain of bruised ribs. But it was different on Cas, someone like him should be untouchable. Unbreakable.

Carefully, so not to startle him, he gentle pressed on one side of Cas's ribs, feeling for any breaks.  
Cas jerked away, his eyes wide at the pain.

"I know it hurts man, but I gotta check if anything is broken."

Cas furrowed his brow, and pushed past Dean to sit on the edge of the bed gingerly.

"Dude, stop being a baby, it'll just take a second." Dean huffed, following Cas exasperated.

The other man looked up at him, wounded. "It hurts Dean." He said slowly, as if explaining a new concept.

"Yea I get it-"

"No you don't, Dean!" Cas interrupted. "I have been hurt, stabbed, and literally every atom of my body blown into oblivion. I am older than time and I have been in more difficult situations then you can imagine. But all the time in this vessel, my sensations have muted."

Seeing Dean was still confused, he rolled his eyes and grabbed Dean's arm.

"It is the difference between this' He ran his fingers down Dean's arm, the thick fabric making it difficult for Dean to even feel the soft touch. 'And this." He breathed, turning Dean's arm over wrist up and pushing the fabric up to his elbow. He slowly traced his fingers down his inner arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Dean swallowed hard, trying to stifle the shiver that made its way up his spine uninvited.

Their gazes where still locked as Cas pulled away.

"So you can see, why I am overwhelmed at these sensations at the moment."

Dean just nodded and managed a soft "Sorry."

Cas nodded then turned to allow Dean to finish his administrations.

Dean was careful this time; he softly brought his hands to Cas sides and gently ran his hands down the bruised ribs, mindful of any signs of breaks.

As he grazed the scars on his back, Cas pulled away quickly, gasping. Dean jerked his hand back quickly, "do they still hurt? They look like they've been healed for months."

Cas simply nodded, the quiet stretching into the room until Cas finally broke the silence.

"It is where my wings burned away. Though I was unconscious for the ordeal, they will always be sensitive."

Cas looked at Dean, and the other man quickly realized he still had one hand softly pressed near Cas's hip, the only spot not discolored. He quickly withdrew his hand and stood up, wiping his hand on his shirt as if trying to rid his skin of the feel of Cas's own.

This was getting weird.

"Go ahead and get in the shower. We'll eat and head back to the Bunker."

Nodding, Cas pulled the towel around him and shut himself in their bathroom, apparently succeeding this time from the lack of crashing.

Dean sat down on the bed shakily, trying not to think about the way it felt to feel Cas breathing underneath his touch, or the way his breath hitched when Cas's calloused fingers had caressed his arm.

He needed some fresh air.

___________________

 

Dean's breath came out in short, barely controlled puffs. It was below freezing, his breath drifting lazily on front of him before disappearing.  
He rubbed his hands together, trying to forget the feeling of warmth that had spread from the touch of Cas's skin. He grimaced, his friend was in there, the almighty angel struggling with something like a shower head and he was outside having a panic attack about the poor guy. This isn't what friends do.  
He was so lost in his is thoughts he didn't hear the door opening behind him, so he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a damp hand touch his shoulder slightly.

"Shit!" He jumped, causing the smaller man to step back as well. "Dammit Cas, still scaring the crap out of me."

"Well at least I have retained that important power." Cas bit back, sarcastically to Dean's surprise.  
He must have seen Deans puzzled expression because Cas pressed his eyes shut and dropping his head. "I apologize Dean, I am extremely tired and my head is killing me."

It took Dean to realize that Cas was still in a towel, standing in the night air, shivering.

"Yea and it's as cold as Santa's balls out here, get inside." He said gruffly, obviously walking widely around Castiel as to avoid any skin to skin contact.

Cas complied, gratefully shutting the door that closed with a groan behind them.

Dean rustled through one of the duffel bags he had laid out on the bed, grabbed a few protein bars and held them up to Cas.  
"Chocolate chip or Peanut Crunch?" He read off the labels, waiting to Cas's response. The other man just looked confused, squinting at the small wrapped bars in confusion.  
"I don't - I don't know?" He sputtered out, looking thoroughly overwhelmed at having to choose between the two.  
Dean shrugged and tossed him the chocolate chip, which Cas caught without hesitation much to Dean's surprise. He still had his quick reflexes; that was good to know.

Castiel nodded his thanks, ripped open the bar and had it devoured in a minute or two, looking disappointed when he revealed an empty wrapper. Dean shook his head and chucked a pair of jeans and tee-shirt next to him, eyeing the toned man and determined his jeans maybe a bit oversized on his narrow hips but they'd work for now.  
Not that Dean noticed things like his hip bones.

He shuddered, and Cas must have noticed because he meekly asked, "is something wrong?"

Dean shrugged. "No." He held out the clothing, trying to keep his eyes everywhere but Cas's piercing gaze. "Put these on. Leave the shirt off, we need to ice those ribs. I'll get you pain killers for the headache."  
He nodded and started to disrobe until Dean threw up his hands, "Man, go in the bathroom."  
Cas's cheeks colored slightly, muttered a soft apology and slipped into the bathroom, clothing in hand.  
Dean once again left the room, ice bucket in hand.  
His phone came to life as he headed back, juggling both the container and phone while trying to watch his phone.  
"What's up Charlie?" He answered, stopping outside the door to the motel.  
"Just wanted to give you a heads up.' She sounded stressed, there was no more sound of television in the background. 'There's been some reports in the area. Angelic type of reports. Word on the street is they are looking for Castiel."

Dean wasn't impressed. "So what, we have a bunch of wingless dicks that want a piece of Cas. Couldn't do it last year, really think they are going to do it now that they are cut off cold turkey?"

"That's the problem, Dean, they still have their powers."

That caused Dean to pause. "What do you mean? I've got Cas in the motel with a frikken black eye, how do you explain that?"

Charlie huffed loudly over the phone, he could hear her frantic typing as he anxiously looked over his shoulder for the tenth time.  
"I don't know Dean! Just watch your back.' She paused. 'and watch Cas."

"Yea." He sighed, holding back from putting his fist through the flimsy motel door. When could it ever be easy?

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Cas was waiting on the bed, jeans loose around his waist, his head tilted towards the floor. He looked miserable.

Dean turned on the overhead light causing the wounded man to wince, pinching his eyes shut as the light pitched through.

Dean quickly turned it off, pushing a couple Ibuprofen and a glass of tap water to him Which he gratefully accepted, tossing his head back and downing the small glasses contents.  
Dean held up the bag of ice, "Lay down, this will help with the bruising. We can set you up with something nicer when we get to the Bunker, but this will make the trip home a little more bearable."  
Cas looked at him unconvinced but did as he was told, pulling the stiff motel pillow underneath his head and wrapping his arms around it. He buried his head in it Like he wanted to get lost in it. To be anywhere but there.

Busying himself by looking everywhere but the angels bare back, he tied the bag in a knot, and watched the rise and fall as breathed in and out.  
Breathing.  
It struck Dean again that Cas was human. And painfully so.  
Unfortunately, Dean forgot about what Cas had explained to him earlier, about his senses being so heightened. As he placed the bag on the deepest part of the bruising, Cas immediately froze, his body going tense as he gasped into the pillow, immediately rolling off the bed and into the corner, his breathing frantic.

"Dude, what the hell?!" Dean immediately tossed his hands up, trying to seem nonthreatening.

Cas had his arms wrapped around him again, his teeth clenched. "A little warning would have been appreciated." He gritted out, his eyes watering.

"Dude, it's ICE, thought it was self-explanatory!" He retorted, grabbing the fallen bag. He huffed, noticing the flush in Cas's cheeks, like he was embarrassed. Now he felt like a dick.  
"Let's try this again. Sorry I didn't warn you."

Cas gave him a piercing look but steadied his jaw and laid back down, taunt as a bow, his fists clenched at his sides. He refused to close his eyes this time, he instead had his eyes trained on Dean as he lifted the bag of frozen cubes in his line of sight.

Deans hand brushed the spot it was going to land, placing it just below the deep, purple bruise. He waited until his muscles relaxed a little more and carefully placed the ice pack down. Cas visibly winced, but Dean left his hand there on his lower back, unintentionally caressing the skin as Cas relaxed into his touch.

Once again, the tingling sensation in his finger tips and he felt a deep flush crawl to his cheeks as he realized what he was doing.  
Cas was still watching him as he withdrew his hand, he could only hope he didn't notice the stammering breath as he pulled himself off the couch.

"Um- just leave it there for a sec.' Dean instructed, busying himself with packing the bags. 'just going to put these in the impala. Gotta leave early tomorrow."

The fallen angel nodded, careful not to the dislodge the now soothing ice as he relaxed into the bed below him.

SPNSPNSPN

By the time Dean returned from the impala, Cas was snoring softly from his bed,curled up with his knees to his chest the ice discarded on the stained motel floor.

Shaking his head, Dean toed off his boots and flung himself into the bed next to the sleeping man.  
He caught himself staring at him a little longer than his rational mind would allow him, so he turned off the bedside lamp and shut his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of Castiel's breathing.

________________

 

Cas woke slowly and painfully. Waking, in his opinion, was always a painful, jarring experience. The soft light from the broken blinds that hung from the window of the motel seemed to have a personal vendetta against him. His head was still pounding, he rubbed his wrists, thankful for the distinct lack of handcuffs.

"Morning sunshine!" Came an all too loud voice, the owner of said voice set a steaming mug on the dresser next to him.

"Can you please not be so loud." He gritted out vehemently, he said pulsing even as he spoke.

"Head still bugging ya?" Asked Dean, slouching comfortably in the wooden chair he had pulled closer to Cas's bedside.

"The pain I am experiencing has nothing to do with insects, I assure you."

Dean scoffed, and put two more pain relievers on his table.

Castiel quickly tossed them back, swallowing them dry, much to the grimace on Dean's face.

"Don't you have anything stronger?" He grumbled, taking a sip of his coffee. Black. Dean remembered.

Dean's expression went stony, and his voice dropped as he replied, "Not for you I don't." Cas looked up, perplexed at the sudden change in Dean's demeanor, and Cas was puzzled to why he would hold back when he was in so much pain. Not just physically, but inside he felt completely hollow. There was nothing there.

Maybe he thought he deserved the pain. Which, he would be correct.

Neither of them spoke for a while, Cas slowly savoring the bitter motel coffee and Dean stared at his phone for a while, though Cas could see him casting him pointing looks.

"We better be heading off. It's a long drive home."

Cas's stomach dropped at that word; home. His home would be forever cut off to him. And it was all his fault.

He nodded, not wanting to upset Dean. The idea of having to face everyone, to face them when they know what he did. He made his stomach flip unpleasantly. He knew he had too; he had to seek penance and hope they'd let me stay. He realized it the first day in jail; for once in thousands and thousands of years, he had nowhere to go. And he obviously made a piss-poor human if his semi starved state and recent incarnation said anything for him.

Dean had laid out a shirt for him to wear. He paused, running his fingers and savoring the feeling of soft, worn cloth. Clearly Dean's apparel, it smelled distinctly of leather and the interior of the Impala. It had a small blood stain near the collar.

Cas thought he was doing well putting on the tee shirt until it was half way over him and the bruising in his ribs seized from his position, stretching the bruised muscles painfully.

He stopped, panting and embarrassed.

"Ya stuck?" Dean asked, albeit humorously as he came upon Cas from a trip to the car, packing supplies.

"Dean..." Cas warned, the predicament not improving his mood in the slightest.

He heard footsteps and felt the tee being pulled gently to show his disheveled hair and embarrassed scowl.  
Dean's hands brushed the shirt carefully around his waist, smoothing out a wrinkle. Cas kept his gaze on Dean, without his grace everything looked differently to him, including Dean. He saw the mans small scars and freckles that littered his face. The tiny lines caused by hard living and too much anxiety for one to handle. And then he was to his eyes, too green and too brilliant just like they'd always been. He couldn't see the shine of his soul anymore but the brilliance had no diminished. Dean had stopped, his breathing was soft and he was staring right back at the fallen angel. Cocking his head slightly to the right when he saw Dean's chest hitch, he was about to express his gratitude when Dean closed his mouth and steeled his gaze. "Personal space Cas." He spat before he pushed out the door.

Dropping his eyes, he slowly followed the other man. Shuffling his feet as he went.

SPNSPSPNSPN

Dean drove in silence for a bit, before he noticed Cas's trembling hands. Shit, he forgot the poor guy hadn't eaten in a while. And that small protein bar probably didn't satiate any hunger last night.

He pulled up into a small diner, told Cas to stay put, and walked in to order some food. He was pretty hungry himself, he hadn't realized since all the shit that had gone on these last few days. It wasn't like him to skip a meal.

Ordering a few burgers and pointingly ignoring the waitress' puppy eyes as he ordered.  
He kept his eye on the Impala, watching for anyone suspicious and keeping an eye on the man who had made it a point to disappear on I him. Except this time he had to walk so Dean supposed he had the advantage.

Dean smiled politely at the disappointed blond who handed him his order. Hopefully the burger would lighten Cas's mood.  
He dropped the grease stained brown bag in Cas's lap, who looked at him confused.

"It's a burger genius.' He stopped at Cas's bewilderment at his statement. 'what did you think I was going to let you starve?" He said, taking a bite of his burger and putting the car into gear.  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas smile and dig into the bag.

Dean found himself smiling, warmth spreading through him as Cas finally ate, and looked like he enjoyed it. He immediately quenched the feeling, grabbing a handful of fries.

"It looks like someone wanted you to receive this." Cas said, breaking the silence and handing him the stained diner receipt.

Dean took is suspiciously only to roll his eyes at the hastily scribbled numbers on the back. He rolled down the window and tossing the crumbled bit of paper out, leaving it floating somewhere down the interstate.

He saw a very small smile from Cas.

"You shouldn't litter Dean." He said reproachfully, but the grin on I his face suggested he was attempting to make a joke.

Dean looked over the retort when Cas dropped his burger and flung his hands to the dash before shouting, "Dean!"

Dean looked up, and barely had time to slam on the breaks, locking up the old car and turning the wheel to avoid a man in the middle of the road.

"What the hell!" He exclaimed, and suddenly realized he had soccer mom armed Cas, who was thankfully wearing his seat belt.

Cas hadn't looked away from the road, but suddenly grew pale.

"Dean."

Looking up he noticed the stranger walking towards them, an angel blade gripped in their left hand.

____________

"Shit, Cas get out of the car!" Dean cried, jerking off his seat restraint and switching off the safety of his gun. He leapt out of the Impala, his gun raised and his face set.

The man contained toward them, the angel blade held tightly in the angels hand.

"You better stop right there asshat, before I start shooting.' Dean threatened. "From what I hear, vessels are hard to come by these days."

The man snarled, raised his empty hand in the air. "I have no quarrel with you Dean Winchester. Give me Castiel,' he said, nodding his head to the stalled Impala where Cas sat, eyes wide and breathing hard. ' 'And I'll be happy to leave."

Dean's stance didn't waiver, even after Cas called to him, fumbling with his seat belt.

"Stay in the damn car Cas!" He demanded, never taking his eyes off the enemy.

"Just let him turn himself in. Take his punishment for his part in this atrocity!" Fumed the unnamed Angel.

"Sorry, can't do that."

The angel nodded his head, almost smiling as if he was hoping for an argument. The blade swung effortlessly in his hand; acting like an extension of its wielder, something Dean had seen Cas do so many times. He prepared to thrown the sharpened blade, and from the unmasked hatred being flung his way, Dean had a pretty good idea who it was.

Dean fired three shots quickly in succession; heart, head, knee.  
But it didn't seem to persuade he fallen angel to turn back, rearing back he went to sling the shining blade-Dean wide eyed, moved to duck, but paused when the angel stopped.  
Blood dribbled down his chin, staining the front of shirt, the angel blade fell, forgotten as pain flittered across his paling features.

Dean straightened up, grinning and stalking up to the angel, his gun still at the ready.  
He knelt next to the injured vessel, blood now pooling around him. He looked to Dean, confusion plain on his face.

"Want to know what that hurt ya don't ya?" Dean inquired, gesturing to the wounds that now where peeking a bright light from their expanses. To his defense, he made no move to answer, only stared brazenly back at Dean, who smiled.

"I know a guy, and when I say guy I mean King of Hell," he stopped and shrugged. "And by know I mean locked in my dungeon. Seems like one of your angel buddies went rogue, showed him how to melt down your blades into bullets." He opened the barrel of here gun, showing the silver peeking out from the smooth, clean casing. "He was pretty helpful on showing us how to make a few ourselves."

He stood up, fetching the fallen blade and placing it under the angels chin.

"Now I know you still have your angel radio tuned in, so listen up. This is to any angel douche bags who want to get their hands on me, or my family.' He paused, his eyes blazing with righteous anger. 'A word of advice. Stop."  
And with that, he mustered every inch of strength and rammed the blade through the angels chin.  
He closed his eyes, pushing the body back as it exploded in a haze of brilliant light.

The smell of ozone filled the air, his hair of his arms where standing to attention and there was no noise in the surrounding wilderness.

Sitting up and dusting the gravel and bits of debris from his jeans, he whipped his head when he heard a slam of a car door.

He turned to see Cas all but running down the road, still limping and holding his side.

"Dammit, Cas." He muttered, jogging after the man. It wasn't hard to catch up to him; his injuries and that he still wasn't used to getting fatigued or how to regulate his breathing. He huffed miserably, wincing each time his shoes met the uneven concrete.

"Cas, slow down!" Demanded Dean, grabbing his friend by the shoulder and spinning him around hard to face him.

"No!" Cas retorted angrily, pushing Dean back with all his might. Despite his smaller stature, he caused Dean to waver.

Dean pursed his lips, his eyes flashing dangerously, and shoved him back.

"What the hell is your problem!" He cried, angry and confused at the same time by the fallen angel.

"Hit me!" Cas screamed, pushing him again vehemently.

Dean was getting more and more confused, allowing the injured man to push him again until they where close to the parked impala.

He waited until Cas tried to push him again, grabbed his biceps and switched their positions, pressing his forcefully against that impalas passenger door.

Dangerously close to each other, Dean took in Castiel's labored, hitched breathing, he was trying desperately to break Dean's hold on him.

"What the hell is your problem?" Hissed Dean, his forearm pressing against Castiel's heaving chest, keeping him in placard the despite his squirming.

The ex-angel stilled, a broken sob escaping his chest.

"It's my fault Dean.' He groaned, banging his head on the roof of the car he was being held against. "All of this, is my fault. I deserve everything I get."  
Panting, Dean secured a tighter hold on the man, causing his gleaming blue eyes to snap to Deans.

"So you're just going to run again, huh?" Rasped Dean exasperated. "You're just going to leave m-us again?" If Cas noticed his stumble, he did let on, allowing Dean to finish his venting.

"You've messed up. Again.' Cas's eyes dropped, but nodded. "But you're not allowed to leave again. You can't just slip out when shit hits the fan because that's not how this works. You don't get to make me wonder where you are, wonder if you are cold, or eating or even alive, goddamit!" Deans voice was raising at every syllable, the man cowering a bit as he his anger seemed palpable. "You're not allowed to make me feel this way, do you understand me?!"

Cas nodded.

"I'm not going to indulge in your sick obsession with redemption and punishment. I'm not a priest and you're not an angel anymore." Cas flinched at that one. "So you're going to get in that car, you are going to sit there until we get to the bunker. You are going to get better, we're going to patch you up and we're going to fix this. Like we always do."

It was then, in the stillness, that Dean realized how close they where to each other. Deans muscular frame had Cas's pinned, Dean could feel the rise and fall of Cas's chest as his erratic breathing slowed. Their eyes where still locked, chest to chest.

Dean was trembling by the time he let Cas go, and he slumped against the car, still feeling the pang in his lower back from the door handle.

"Do we understand each other?" He heaved, gently grasping Cas's chin, forcing his eyes to his. Cas nodded, swallowing a sob that threatened to surface.  
Dean lingered there, his fingers still planted against Cas's rough chin. He could feel it quivering.  
Snapping out of his daze, he let go of Cas, and opened the passenger door.  
Cas obliged by sitting down obediently, replacing his seat belt.

Slamming the door, Dean walked around the back of the car, knowing Cas couldn't see him, and pushed his fingers into his eyes, pushing back his emotions and stealing his features. He heaved a heavy, exhausted sigh before stalking over to the driver's side and sliding in.

Neither of the men said a word as they swerved around the body still laying prostrate, blood being washed away as a light sprinkle of rain came down.

Cas didn't look back, and neither did Dean.

It was dark when they pulled up to the bunker.  
Dean killed the engine and they say there in silence, like they had the way there.  
He was about to open the door when he noticed Cas's breathing had quickened in the few minutes they had sat.

"Cas?" He asked finally breaking the silence.

Cas whipped his head, swallowing nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing as shook his head.

"Don't make me go in there Dean." He shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself, making himself seem smaller as he hunched down.

"Why the hell not?"

Cas just kept shaking his head, his eyes wide.

Dean huffed and leaned forward, capturing halting Cas's repetitive movements by gripping both sides of his head, forcing his gaze on him.

"Talk to me." He demanded softly, trying to not to sound threatening and scare the man further.

Cas gulped, but seemed to calm immediately as Dean placed his hands on him. Dean tried not to notice that Cas leaned into his touch, his eyes fluttering for a moment.

"My stomach, it feel hollow or like I'm about to drop. I don't understand..." He trailed off, his eyes still wide, trying to make sense of his emotions that where overwhelming him.

"Cas, you're just nervous. It's ok." Dean soothed, looking towards the bunker to make sure he had no witness to his bout of comforting words and close quarters with Cas. "Deep breaths." Dean felt ridiculous breathing in deeply, instructing Cas to follow suit before the poor bastard hyperventilated before they even reached the door.

The color returned to Cas's face and Dean let go, trying to crush the stab of lose as his fingers trailed down his face.

"Ok man. Let's go." Cas stalled, looking towards the bunkers steel door. "I can patch you up, get you some food."

Cas dipped his head, nodding.

Limping a bit towards the door, Dean waited for Cas's ok to open the heavy barricade, light filtering to outside, illuminating the porch.

With a deep sigh, Dean saw a Cas settle his jaw in determination, and set forward into the light and warmth of the Bunker.

______________

 

Cas blinked as he walked into the warm light of the Bunker. It was warm and it smelled like someone was cooking, the warmth immediately ceasing the trembling of his body. It felt like home.  
"Cas?" Came an incredulous voice. He turned to the sound and found himself face to chest with the younger Winchester.  
"Hello Sam." He replied, awkwardly shifting his feet. What he if told him to leave? Was he angry?  
Sam's hand clasped him heartily on the shoulder, making him wince a bit. "It's good to have you back man."  
Cas tilted his head. Confusion and delight pulsed through him;they didn't seem angry. At least, not at first meeting.

"Thank you, I am pleased to see you are recovering." Castiel expressed, making way for Dean as he strode through the door, laden with baggage.  
"Heya Sammy, can you show Cas to his room, I need to hit the showers" He looked at Cas after dropping the duffel bag at the door, as if sensing how miserable he was. "I'll be there with clothes in a second."

"Dean I really don't-" Cas began to protest until Dean shot him a glare that suggested he not argue.

Quickly reminding himself that is stay at the Bunker was conditional to the Winchesters mood, he decided to go a long with it. His position in the household was precarious at best.

Sam nodded and guided Cas through the halls, he remembered most of it from when he was there last time, until Sam turned a corner to a smaller room-bit housed a plain bed in the middle of the room and a built in book case.  
"Here ya go man!" Sam smiled, leading him inside.  
Cas took a tentative look around, unsure of how to proceed. His insides lurched, anxiety churning in his stomach.  
"I can stay here?" He asked tentatively. He was almost afraid of the answer.  
Sam looked taken aback, like it was the most ridiculous question he'd heard. "Yea man of course. This work ok?"  
Cas nodded speechless at the generosity he was being shown, he sat carefully on the blue comforter, relishing in the soft feel of the fabric under his fingers.  
"Thank you Sam." He whispered, his limbs suddenly feeling heavy.  
Inwardly, Cas groaned;sleep was one of the most displeasing experiences of being human that he had encountered thus far. And he'd spent time in jail already in his limited time as a mortal.

"Hey, all settled in?" Cas rose his head to see Dean walk in, decidedly more relaxed now that he was back at the bunker, his hair still damp and dripping in some places, the plain tee hugging his chest.

Cas quickly looked away, panicking as he felt his heart start to palpitate uncontrollably. The sight of Dean so at ease and unwound brought an unusual feeling to his chest. Like his chest would burst.

Sam turned, his brow furrowed in concern, "Cas you ok?"

Cas's gaze darted between the identical confused looks on the brothers faces; he didn't know.  
Dean broke the silence, obviously sensing Cas's distress.  
"I'm sure he's just tired Sam.' Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder and steered him out of the room. 'Dinner in 10."  
That left Cas in silence. The impenetrable silence permeated though his skull, he drew himself up to the bed, pulling his stolen hoodie closer around him. Dean wanted him to leave it at the hotel, but he couldn't. In the absence of his well worn trench coat, the hoodie had taken over the part of Cas that needed to be cushioned. To have a place to hide. That place used to be heaven, but now even that was taken from him.

All of a sudden, the walls around him seemed to close in around him, the air seemed thick and he felt his throat tightening with each gasping breath he took. Eyes wide, he searched around the room for anything to anchor himself to, he swore he could feel eyes on him.  
He realized with a lurch that his blade was still in the duffel bag near the entrance; he betrayed himself immediately-what had he been thinking giving up his only weapon like that? Time was irrelevant at the moment, so he really wasn't sure how long it had been when he heard a sharp rap on his door. Pulling his knees to his chest, he waited for the door to open, to face whatever monster was behind that door. His mind had created a variety of scenarios; none of which where pleasant.

Dean's annoyed face came to focus, the light spilling in from the hallway, the sound of soft talking spilling in and pushing back his nightmares.

"Dude, you gotta eat. Get your ass out here." Dean insisted, leaving the door open as he walked back out.

Cas gratefully untucked his legs and scurried out behind him, leaving the darkened room gratefully.

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Cas was on edge; Dean could practically smell the fear wafting from his room before he reached the door. Few years in Hell will give you that innate sense.  
He tried not to notice the way Castiel followed him, his hands stuffed in the holey pockets of that damned hoodie, or how he kept glancing behind him. He had been quiet on the way home. Nothing like this.  
They reached the kitchen, and Dean pulled a chair out for Cas and beckoned him to sit. Charlie looked at Cas with unfettered curiosity and excitement.  
He had told them to keep it down tonight; Cas was still adjusting.  
Kevin didn't even look up from his soup, seeming intent on devouring the bowls contents without interruption.  
Dean pushed the bowl of chicken noodle soup and sandwich in Cas's direction, who nodded his thanks.  
Dean had asked Charlie to keep the dinners bland and as nourishing as possible; Sam was still reeling from the affects of the trials and his goal was to get him as healthy as possible. Not even a beer stood on the table, though Dean thought the water was a little much, even for Sam's palate.  
Dean stole a look in Cas's direction, he was simply staring at the steaming bowl in front of him as if unsure how to proceed.  
Dean nudged his elbow with his own, gesturing to the untouched bowl.  
"Dude, eat. You're way too skinny."  
Cas nodded and began to sip cautiously.  
Dean had tried not to notice how worn he looked, how tired and beaten. The circles under his eyes where starting to look like someone had wailed on him, which in some parts where true.  
He was thankful to see the small cut under his eye had been healing well and his breathing seemed to be easier for the fallen angel.

"So, how are feeling Cas?" Sam asked breaking the uneasy silence. Dean shot him an exasperated glare, rolling his eyes.

"I am...adjusting.' Cas offered, taking a large bite of bread. 'Thank you for asking Sam, but I do believe I should be asking you the same question."

Sam smiled, the tired lines of his face wrinkling as he did so.  
"Adjusting."  
Dean took a moment to take in his brothers appearance-Charlie had been doing a good job for the few days that he was away. The color had returned to his face and the pained lines around his eyes seemed to have smoothed. He was even eating without throwing up so that was a definite plus.

The silence returned, but comfortable this time. Dean knew Charlie was bursting with questions and he knew she was reigning herself in, attempting to give them all some space.

Kevin looked up from his empty plate, pushed his chair away from the table and Dean heard the clanking of dishes as he deposited them in the sink.  
He quietly reappeared, softly put a hand on Castiel's shoulder before walking off.

Dean waited until he was out of earshot before he asked Charlie, "How's the kid doing?"

Charlie shrugged, her mouth in a tight line. "He's still pretty pissed. Knowing that Crowley is still alive is eating at him pretty hard."

"Yea I know."

Cas had gone back to staring at his nearly empty bowl. Dean tired not to ignore him until he saw his eyelids droop.

"Hey Cas, maybe you should turn in." He suggested, leaning back in his chair and pushing his napkin on the table. Charlie had went to the trouble of actually setting the table, napkins and non plastic dinner ware included.

Castiel's head whipped up, his eyes wide.

"I'd rather not. "

Dean scoffed, "Cas you're human now. You have to sleep, eat, shower. It's all part of it."

Cas seemed very determined despite his obvious exhaustion.

Dean waited until he saw Castiel's head snap up again aft- almost falling over into his soup bowl.

"Alright that's it, let's go sleeping beauty." He pushed out of his chair and took Cas's elbow, helping him out of his chair.

"Thank you for the meal Charlie. It was very satisfying." Castiel mumbled sleepily. Charlie smiled and nodded.

Leading a tired Castiel down the long hall, Dean tried not to focus on how he leaned into him or how his wiry frame kept brushing against his own muscular one. His dark hair mussed and sticking out every which way, reminiscent of their first meeting in that barn so long ago.

They stopped at his door, Cas paled as Dean pushed open the door for him.

"Alright man, just uh-go to sleep I guess.' He started to walk away but stopped. 'If you need anything I'm just a few doors down."

He tried not to notice the lost and frightened look on Cas's face as he walked into his room, or how he stayed at the doorway and refused to enter.

"He's a big boy, he's got this." He thought to himself as he stripped off his shirt and prepared for bed himself.

He didn't know how wrong he was.

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean woke with a start. His eyes shooting open as he sat up, immediately going to the gun he left on his night stand.  
He wasn't sure what woke him, everything seemed silent save for rapid beating of his own heartbeat in his ears.

There it was again, a quiet sound that echoed down the darkened hallway.  
Peering down the hall, gun in hand and on alert he walked closer to the origin of the sound, coming to rest outside of Castiel's closed door.  
Confused, he switched the safety on his weapon and pushed it into the back of his jeans he had hastily thrown on on his way out of his bedroom.  
He didn't knock, Castiel's privacy didn't seem to occur to him, being as there was so many times Cas had popped up unannounced in his personal space-he was just going to tell him to keep whatever the hell he was doing down, but when he cracked open the door his heart dropped to his stomach.  
Castiel was wrapped in his comforter, curled up in the darkest corner of the small room, sweat pouring down his grimacing face. He was kicking and snarling and crying softly.

"Shit." Dean muttered, quietly stalking into the room, leaving on the hall light so he could at least see where he was going.  
He paused, peering at the half cocooned man who was silently struggling with an invisible offender in his nightmares.  
He remembered this all too well-after he was raised from hell the nightmares and terrors he faced from his own unconsciousness would make even the heartiest of men beg for mercy.  
And now Cas was going through it, and it hurt him more than it should.  
Carefully he knelt down, keeping an arm up to defend himself; coming from personal experience he knew that after waking up from the horrors of your own mind the first reaction is to lash out.  
He gently grasped Cas's shoulder, mindful of the bruising.

"Cas, man you gotta wake up.' He whispered, trying to sound as non threatening as possible. 'you're just having a nightmare."  
Blue eyes shot open, Cas immediately covered his head and pushed himself further into his corner, trembling and gasping for breath.

"Cas it's ok, it's just me." He continued to soothe, reaching out again for the man.  
Eyes pierced his through the darkness. "Dean?" Came a hopeful whisper, slowly lowering his raised arms.  
"Yea it's just me."

Cas continued to stare, his breaths coming out in uncontrolled gasps, grasping at the fresh air.  
"You with me?" He asked, still holding on to his shoulder, anchoring him.

Castiel nodded weakly, eyes darting around the room before accepting Dean's hand up. He was drenched in sweat, but shivered nevertheless.  
Dean wrapped his arm around his sweat soaked middle, guiding him back to his own bed. The pillows had been tossed to the other side of the queen bed, the fitted sheet the only survivor of Cas's breakdown.

He sat Cas on the bed, carefully unwrapping his arm from his torso, gathering the discarded pillows and comforter. "Just try to go back to sleep." He advised, keeping his voice low.  
Cas shook his head violently, sitting up with just as much force.  
"No, Dean please don't make me.' He shuddered. "I'm sorry. Just please..." He trailed.  
"Dude, this isn't a punishment!" He exclaimed. "It's just a fact, you have to sleep." He stopped, trying to sound less of an ass then he just did. "Listen, I know it sucks. And I know how it feels, ok?"  
He tried not to remember what it felt like.  
"You just got to press on, ok?"  
Nervously, Cas asked, "Do they ever stop?"  
"The nightmares?' Dean frowned, shaking his head. 'Not in my experience. But it gets manageable."  
Castiel didn't look convinced, but stayed in his bed even though Dean saw the look in his eye. The wild expression that suggested he would bolt if Dean hadn't been there.  
Dean found his hand on Cas's knee, comforting him. He quickly pulled away, ran his hands down his jeans and walked to the door.

He stopped, taking in Cas's wide eyes. He couldn't stay. He can't do this.

"Night Cas."

_____________

It didn't stop with just that night. Dean had awoken at a semi decent hour despite the previous nights events, and came face to face with a bed headed, dark ringed ex angel, who had a death grip on a mug of steaming coffee.

It continued as such for a 4 day's- Dean would always wake up, not even bothering to take off jeans anymore for bed, because he knew he'd be up in the earliest hours anyway. His gun stayed on the bedside table as he'd stumble into Cas's bedroom, rouse the man and get him back to bed. Cas would always just stare at him as he left, and every night Dean fought the urge to watch over him, as Castiel had done for him so many times.

It changed on night 5. Dean awoke, like normal. It felt different this time; the air felt tense and the noises coming from Castiel's room where louder, more violent.  
He couldn't believe it didn't wake Sam, though since the trials he had become a heavy sleeper, and Kevin slept with earbuds in so no help there. With Charlie out for a few days it had been rough on Dean, so his preoccupation with Castiel's adjustment into the realm of mere mortals had been put on the back burner as Crowley's living situation was obliviously needing to change and getting Sam's strength back was a priority.

Dean was more awake then previous nights, more cautious.  
Opening the door he found Cas curled up on the bed, sobbing and twisting.

"Cas!" He gasped, running immediately to his side.  
What he heard left him breathless. "Dean, please, I'm sorry..." Was what he could decipher.  
Shaking him gently, Cas came to immediately, as if his body was used to the routine by now. He was shaking, and when he saw Dean's face, he latched himself onto him, flinging his quivering arms around the taller mans neck.  
Dean sat in shock as Castiel leaned into him, not letting go but possibly holding tighter with each passing second.  
Dean gave himself the chance to breathe him in, revel in the feeling of Cas against him. He carefully, cautiously, wrapped his arms around him loosely, and albeit awkwardly patted his back.  
"You with me Cas?" He whispered, rolling his eyes at himself when his voice cracked, almost a stutter.  
The man in his arms nodded, pressed his head into Deans shoulder before drawing himself back to his bed.

Dean nodded, got up and turned to leave when a hand shot up and grabbed his wrist. Dean looked down, startled at the tight grip and into Cas's pleading eyes.

"Stay. Please."

Dean stopped, his body humming simply from the contact with Cas, so close.

"Yea, ok."

Cas's demeanor changed instantly, his agitated manner slipping away to a more relieved demeanor.  
He scooted over, pushing the covers back for Dean to slip in.  
Slowly, Dean closed the space between them, leaving on his jeans and tee, sinking into the space next to Cas.  
His bed wasn't as comfortable as his own, but the heaviness of his limbs where betraying him, overriding his nerves and apprehensions.  
Cas turned his back to him, facing the book, his shoulders more relaxed.  
"Good night Dean." He whispered.

"Night Cas."

SPNSPSNSPNSPN

It was late; Dean could feel it when he woke. His body felt too rested, his limbs begging him not move.  
It took him awhile to realize that there was a warm body next to him; well not as much next to him as on him. His brain took a bit to organize this thoughts, slowly coming to consciousness to find his arm was comfortably trapped beneath Castiel's still sleeping body.  
Opening his eyes immediately, he came to find Castiel's head nestled onto his shoulder, he was curled like a cat towards him looking completely relaxed and at ease for the first time in a long time.

"Shit." Dean muttered, trying to carefully remove his appendage from under the sleeping man without waking him. Please without waking him.  
But there was no such luck, Cas opened his eyes, still ridden with sleep to meet Dean's panicked ones.  
He immediately drew back, Dean could practically see his heart racing as his eyes widened considerably. Such a drastic change to the calm he saw only moments ago.  
"I'm- I'm sorry Dean." He stammered, his throat bobbing as he pulled himself away. "I didn't realize I did that."  
Cas's leg was still touching Dean's pajama clad one, and it took them both a moment to withdraw. Dean immediately missing the warmth the Cas contributed.  
Deans face was flushed, as innocent as the night had been, it seemed more intimate than Dean had ever experienced before. And Dean had had some experience. He was at a loss, split between being angry and embarrassed or brushing it off. But the pleading, scared look in Cas's eyes made up his mind for him. He'd have time for a freak out later.

"Um, yea no problem.' He got out of bed, wincing as his muscles protested leaving the comfortable nest of blankets and pillows. 'let's keep this between us though ok?"

Cas nodded, heaving a sigh of relief.

"Why don't you jump in shower. I'll bring you some new clothes." He'd said gesturing to the small bathroom nestled in the corner. It wasn't big, but had a small shower that got the job done.

Cas cocked his head. "I took a shower yesterday."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yea but normally you take one everyday. Trust me, it'll help that back of yours."  
Cas lowered his eyes, his back immediately coming to mind; the grim, painful reminder of his fall. He nodded and Dean took that as a sign that he could leave, without it being anymore awkward then it already was.

Dean had tried to slip quietly into his own room, looking over his shoulder nervously. He thought he was home free, until Sam took that exact moment to step out of his room, hair wild with sleep and his feet still bare.  
Sam stopped, confusion etched on his tired face, hand still running over his face. He looked at Dean, at Cas's door, then back at Dean.  
Dean was pretty positive that his heart had stopped beating.  
"Did you just-" Sam trailed off, noticing Dean's pajamas and wide eyed look. Finally he just shrugged, Dean could hear him muttering something along the lines of "it's too early for this" as he brushed pass.  
"It's not what it looks-" Dean started, unable to finish his sentence when Sam waved his hand at Dean and walked into the living area.

"Dammit."

SPNSPSNPSNPSN

Dean dug through his drawers, pulling out a ill fitting old tee and a pair of his jeans. They needed to get him some clothes, after Sam seeing what he saw, and now Cas continually wearing his clothing. Dn stopped, closing his eyes. Dammit what was Sam think? Nothing happened! At least, nothing in the literal sense, but Dean couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had happened.  
The peace he felt with Cas sleeping, soundly for once since he fell, by his side was something he hadn't felt in- well ever.  
Even with Lisa there was a constant fear of danger, he still slept with his gun underneath his pillow.  
He shook his head, pushing his hands into his eyes to stop the flood of emotions currently running through him. The sight of Cas first waking up, hair tossed uncontrollably, sleep still stagnant in his eyes, the relaxed and slow way he woke up. Of course, that was before the look of horror had taken over him, the way he had pulled way from Dean, the stammering and the blood that drained from his face made Dean's stomach sink. He pushed it down, replacing the confusion with anger and slammed the dresser shut. He dressed himself before letting himself into Cas's room, just wanting to drop the clothes off on the unmade bed so he could forget about the whole experience.  
What he didn't bet on was that Cas was already out of the shower, and standing dripping wet with a towel pulled around him.  
They both stopped, Dean felt his mouth drop open a little.  
"Um yea, shit sorry man." He heard himself mutter, though he couldn't be sure he heard anything with the roaring in his ears.  
Cas mirrored his expression, dropping his eyes.  
Dean did the same, holding out the clothes. He felt Cas take them, his stomach fluttering.  
Not fluttering.  
Dean once again masked his face, set his jaw before he stormed out, "Get those on. Breakfast in 10."

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Cas didn't know what to say, or do as he stood there, finally clean and holding the pile of Deans clothing he had thrust upon him.  
Dean had looked upset as he left. Castiel was not used to these feelings, the emotions. He'd been in turmoil since he had been brought to the bunker. Even as an angel, his emotions kept in check, just like his physical sensations, his emotions where not much of a problem. Until now, and especially since last night.  
He had slept, peacefully for the first time since the fall.

He had felt safe, close to the one person in the universe that he trusted. And now everything was ruined. He didn't even remember moving from his spot near the wall, but sleep was an elusive thing he was yet to conquer. He remembered staring up to into Dean's face, being confused and his mind still quiet from the overwhelming amount of sleep. Dean had cursed and Cas quickly withdrew himself from his grasp, terrified of Dean's response. He knew how much personal space meant to him.  
Pulling on Deans hand me down, trying not to breath in the scent that was the older Winchester, whiskey, leather and the smell of oil from the Impala he would imagine.  
It was a little thread bear but it fit him loose and comfortable.

He tried not to wince as his back stretched uncomfortably, the bruising still healing from his plummet to earth.  
The smell of cooking bacons wafted under his door, assaulting his senses pleasantly. His stomach grumbled, and he realized how hungry he really was. He hands where trembling a bit as he opened to the door, from hunger he would imagine.

When he walked into the dining hall, he saw Sam pouring over a newspaper, who immediately caught his eye when he realized his presence. He grinned, picking up his coffee, he grinned mischievously before he took a sip. "So, get a good sleep last night Cas?"  
Cas tilted his head and unintentionally shot a look in Deans direction, who was too busy pouring juice to notice. But Sam did, chuckling as he downed his cup.

"I don't understand what is humorous." Stated Cas, still bewildered.  
Sam shrugged, still with a stupid grin on his face, which Cas found was annoying him to no end.

Dean appeared to the table, arms laden with bacon and toast. He sat a plate down in front of the famished former angel, who immediately shoved the bacon into his mouth. It was still hot, and crispy. He decided he liked bacon quite a bit, despite its poor health implications.

He caught Dean looking at him at different intervals of the meal, his eyes immediately shifting downwards when he was caught.  
Sam said nothing, just ate and left.

"Where is everyone?" Asked Castiel, unable to bear the uncomfortable silence a moment longer.  
It seemed to snap Dean out of whatever stupor he was in, at least enough to answer.  
"Uh, Kevin is on tablet duty, Charlie should be back here sometime tomorrow and Crowley is stewing in his own self pity." That last part made him smile.

"Where did Sam go?" Cas asked, genuinely curious as Sam was wearing loose attire instead of his usual jean and plaid combination.

"Training room. Trying to get his strength back." Dean shook his head, obviously not happy with Sam's decision.  
Castiel immediately perked up at his words. "You have a training facility?"

"What you think we have a dungeon but not a dojo?" He scoffed, gulping the last bit of coffee from the bottom of his mug.

"I'd like for you to take me there please." Cas stated, putting his napkin on the table politely.

"What, like now?" Dean exclaimed, following Cas with his eyes as he put his dirty dishes in the sink.

"That would be preferable, yes."

Dean shook his head, placing his hands on the table. "Dude, I just picked you up from jail barely a week ago, and you want to start sparing?" Dean had an incredulous look on his face, waiting for Cas's response.

Squinting frustratingly, Cas leaned not the table, forcing their gaze to meet. "Dean, I am weary of sitting around doing nothing. I am a soldier, and despite the mortality that has been thrust upon me, I am remain so.' He paused, a pleading look glazing his eyes. "I can still be useful, Dean."  
He sighed and staring at his cup like it was the most interesting thing in the planet at the moment for several beats before he answered.

"Ok, but for the record I think it's a bad idea."

Cas shot him a triumph look and leaned up from the table, looking motivated then Dean had seen in awhile.

Cas followed him down the hall eagerly, keeping in stride until Dean opened the large door to the plain, large white room.  
It was about as large as a basketball court, old punching bags hanging from the ceiling, it's wood floor still shining despite its old age.  
Sam was walking towards them, a towel slung over his neck, breathing heavily. 

Cas had to admit, Sam looked better. Panting and his face flushed with color, his weight finally packing on along with his muscle tone.

"Going to give it a whirl, Cas?" Sam asked, smiling and pulling earbuds out of his ears.  
Cas nodded, looking appreciatively around the large room.  
Sam clapped his hand on Cas's shoulder on his way out, stopping before adding, "Don't overdo it!"

Dean was wrapping his knuckles, throwing off his over shirt onto the bench.  
"What do you want to start with?"

 

____________

 

Dean finished wrapping his hands, waiting on Cas's response.  
Cas looked overwhelmed and overly excited, gazing at the equipment in excitement.  
"Tell ya what, hit up the bags for a bit. We'll see how you feel from there, ok?" Cas nodded, stretching his arms above his head, his tee shirt riding up slightly. But Dean didn't notice that. At all.  
He averted his eyes, feeling shame wave over him even as Cas walked over to the hanging vintage punching bags.  
He was stretching, hearing the first sounds of impact on the leather; he heard the occasional grunt and the heavy breathing of his friend exercising. Dean really didn't exercise; he figured digging up graves, chasing demons, witches and ghosts more than made up for the double cheese burgers and beer. He was just biding his time, he didn't want to leave Cas down here by himself. Didn't seem right in his state.

He was lost deep in his thoughts, and for a moment didn't realize that the sounds coming from Cas where becoming less and less rhythmic and more harsh and frustrated.  
Dean looked behind him to see Cas pummeling the bag, his face red with exertion, sweat pouring down him and his fists hammering into the bag over and over.  
"Hey Cas, wanna take it down a notch?" He called, getting a little concerned at the force behind the punches the ex angel was dishing out.  
But he didn't stop, if anything his grunts got louder and the smack of fists on leather got more intense.  
"Cas!" He exclaimed, getting up and stalking over to the heaving man, grabbing his forearm mid swing.  
Cas looked up, eyes wide and chest heaving- Sweat poured down his face, drenching his shirt.  
"Cas. Slow down."  
Instead of him standing down, a small vein pulsed in his forehead and he wanked his arm out of Dean's grasp.  
"What the hell Cas?" Dean yelled, pushing back on Cas's chest instinctively.  
That was it; something in Cas seemed to snap. Growling, he launched himself at Dean, catching him off guard with a quick upper cut. Dean stumbled back as Cas's knuckles caught him hard in the cheek, knocking him back.  
Dean stumbled back into the closet bag, looking at Cas in complete bewilderment, and then rage.  
"You stupid son of a bitch!" He roared, running back at Cas and shoving him hard against the wall, effectively pinning him there, hands on his shoulders. "What the hell is your problem?"  
Instead of answering, Cas effectively kneed him in the groin. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to push Dean away from him.  
"Get off of me!" He yelled, his face red and hands curled right into fists.  
Dean, finally able to stand, held up his hands, still wheezing a bit.  
"Calm down." He tried to reason. Cas put his hands down, chest heaving and panic etched on his face.  
Dean took his chance, propelling him back against the wall, this time effectively pinning his arms down and using his knee to prevent a repeat of last time.  
"Cas.' He grunted, leveling his gaze to meet Cas's shifting one. 'Just stop and talk to me."

Cas finally looked at Dean, and his face crumbled. "Dean." He choked, tears spilling freely.  
"Dammit, Cas." Dean muttered, his stomach knotting as Cas feel apart in front of him.  
"I could barely move the bag." He whispered, his voice wrecked. "I used to lift cars without a second thought and now...' He trailed off, closing his eyes. 'I am useless Dean. I am no use to anyone."  
Dean was already shaking his head, letting go of one of Cas's shoulder to grip his chin tightly, forcing him to look up.  
"You are not worthless. You have done a hell of a lot of good in this world and you are wanted here." Cas trembled underneath his touch.  
"How many times do I need to tell you that we need you?"  
Eyes glassy, Cas nodded, choking back a sob that threatened to break free of his lips he was trying so hard to keep tightly closed.  
Deans head was swimming due to the proximity to his friend, Cas was leaning heavily on him on him now, and Dean loosened his hold on the shaking man. As soon as Dean let go, Cas went to his knees, dry heaving almost immediately.  
Gingerly, Dean laid a hand on Castiel, trying to soothe him as best he could. Truth be told, his face hurt, his heart was beating out of his chest and the constant contact with Cas was getting to him. And he wasn't handling it well.  
"I'm sorry." The smaller man whispered, looking up guiltily at Dean. "I shouldn't have hurt you."  
Dean forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes, and shrugged.  
"Still got a hell of a right hook on ya man."  
Cas back down at the floor.  
"If you want me to leave I understand." He paused, shutting his eyes-waiting for Deans response.  
Sighing, he crouched next to Castiel. "Let's get you to your room. And we need to get you some clothes, can't keep wearing mine."  
Cas looked up incredulous, accepting Deans help up.  
"Dean, I-"  
Dean just shook his head, cutting him off.  
"Its ok." He looked at the confused, wide eyed man in front of him, his stomach flip flopping. "It's ok."

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean went to the kitchen to grab some frozen peas for his face, it was throbbing. Man still had some insane upper body strength.  
"Dude what happened to your face?" Gasped Kevin incredulously.

Dean shrugged. "Just a little sparing with Cas. Got a little intense."

Sam was staring at him curiously, watching Dean from across the table.  
"What?" Dean asked, irritated at the attention.  
"I think I found us a hunt." Sam said, bringing his attention to his laptop. "Just about two hours from here. Seems like a simple salt and burn."  
"You want to go on a hunt?" Dean asked incredulously. "Dude, I just got you to where you don't look like you're going to fall over and you want to go after a ghost?" Dean shook his head, sitting down at the long table. Kevin sat between them, tablet on the table, simply watching their interaction.

"I'll go." Came a voice behind them. Cas stood in the hall way, still drenched in sweat from the sparing and holding a glass of water. "The practice would be valuable, and the change of scenery would be pleasing."  
Dean's face fell quickly to a blank, angry glare.  
"No frikken way." He stood up, slamming the thawing peas back into the freezer.  
"But Dean-"  
"I said no, Cas!" Dean yelled, slamming the freezer door with more force then necessary.  
Dean felt the bubbling anger boiling inside him, so he pushed his way passed Cas, ignoring Sam's exasperated pleas to sit down and stalked off to his bedroom.  
He slammed the door hard, even as he did so he realized how childish he was being, but at that point he didn't care.  
What the hell where they all thinking? Cas is barely recovered, Sam just is starting to look healthy and they think a hunt just sounds like a perfect idea at the moment.

He was pacing back and forth when he heard a sharp knocking on his door.  
"Go away." He snapped.  
"Dean may I please speak with you." Came Cas's muffled voice behind the door.  
Dean stopped, groaning annoyed, he swung open the door.  
"You have 5 minutes."  
"Dean I do not understand why you are opposed to the proposition. I am centuries old and have been fighting before the earth was formed.' He paused, looking a bit hurt. 'Do you find me so weak that you think I cannot handle a simple ghost?"  
"Cas, its like that..."  
"Then what is it?" Castiel inquired his trademark head tilt catching Dean off guard. His anger and frustration today, the way he moves, it so reminding him of the Cas he knows, the the badass angel that lifted him from hell. Shit.  
"Shit, I don't know Cas. Just don't want you to get hurt.' He stumbled over his words, 'you or Sammy."  
"Dean, someone has to protect these people. I want to help." Cas paused, looking down. "I need to feel useful."  
Dean didn't know if it was the broken sound of Cas's voice, or the fact that ever since Sam mentioned the hunt, there was an itch at the back of his mind. The stress of everything was getting to him, between Sam and Cas he had a lot on I his plate and it sure would feel good to just burn some shit. Get back to things that make sense.  
"Yea, ok.' He pushed pass Cas, who was staring at him surprised, to open his door. "Leave tomorrow, better get some sleep." He gestured to the hall, which Cas obediently followed.  
Dean shut the door before Cas could follow through with whatever he was going to ask.

Opening his closet, he combed through his rag tag assortment of clothes and pushed back a few boxes that held what very few possessions he owned, finally pulling the beat up green duffel bag from the back. A few things remained inside, a fully stocked first aid kit, a couple crumpled protein bars and a blood stained rag he tossed in the trash can.  
He realized he was shaking a bit as he packed a change of clothing into the bag; he was nervous. But not for what most people would be nervous before walking into a ghost infested hell hole, but the fact that this would be the first hunt Cas had been on since he fell, Sam would be alone again and he'd be looking out for not only his ass this time, but the fallen angels as well.  
He packed his clothing and checked the first aid kit before collapsing on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Chewing his bottom lip for a moment, he made heaved a sigh before pushing open his bedside drawer and pulling out a small hidden flask he tucked away some tattered books he hid from Sam. He hadn't drank anything harder than beer for awhile now, he'd kept his alcoholism under control, but tonight he needed it. At least that's what he told himself as he took a swig, the whiskey having a distinct metal taste from sitting in the flask for so long. But it went down smooth and took the edge off and that's all that he told himself.  
He turned off the light, tucking the flask near his hip, not even bothering to say goodnight or even take off his shoes.  
He was asleep before he knew what hit him.

SPNSPSNSPNSPN

Dean woke with a start. Something wasn't right.  
He sprung out of bed, immediately regretting his decision. His head pounded and he mouth felt like sandpaper. He stumbled into the bathroom, gulping down water from the sink, letting it run down his chin.  
It hit him like a ton of bricks.

Cas.  
He grabbed his phone and looked at the time in horror - 9am.

He sprinted out of his room and down the hall, carefully walking silently around Sam's closed door. Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes as he opened Cas's door. It was still dark, the light casting a yellow light on the deserted bed.

He raised a hand to his mouth, closing his eyes as he found Castiel curled in the corner, eyes tightly screwed shut. His blanket twisted around his feet, Dean could make out toppled over lamp and strewn pillows showing an obvious signs of struggle.

"Dammit Cas. I'm so sorry man." He whispered. Kneeling next to the man, he carefully drew him to his chest, heaving him up and carrying him over to his bed. He barely stirred, if anything he snuggled deeper into Dean's embrace.

Dean set him down, pulling the covers up over the sleeping man.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here Cas."

His hand reached to pat his head, the urge to touch him almost overwhelming him. But he stopped himself, hand hovering and closing into empty space.  
Slowly he walked out of the room, feeling worse than he had before.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right guys! I hope you enjoyed this :) Comments back me happy
> 
> There is sequel if anyone is interested in my reposting from Fanfiction.net

Dean finished wrapping his hands, waiting on Cas's response.

Cas looked overwhelmed and overly excited, gazing at the equipment in excitement.

"Tell ya what, hit up the bags for a bit. We'll see how you feel from there, ok?" Cas nodded, stretching his arms above his head, his tee shirt riding up slightly. But Dean didn't notice that. At all.

He averted his eyes, feeling shame wave over him even as Cas walked over to the hanging vintage punching bags.

He was stretching, hearing the first sounds of impact on the leather; he heard the occasional grunt and the heavy breathing of his friend exercising. Dean really didn't exercise; he figured digging up graves, chasing demons, witches and ghosts more than made up for the double cheese burgers and beer. He was just biding his time, he didn't want to leave Cas down here by himself. Didn't seem right in his state.

He was lost deep in his thoughts, and for a moment didn't realize that the sounds coming from Cas where becoming less and less rhythmic and more harsh and frustrated.  
Dean looked behind him to see Cas pummeling the bag, his face red with exertion, sweat pouring down him and his fists hammering into the bag over and over.

"Hey Cas, wanna take it down a notch?" He called, getting a little concerned at the force behind the punches the ex angel was dishing out.  
But he didn't stop, if anything his grunts got louder and the smack of fists on leather got more intense.

"Cas!" He exclaimed, getting up and stalking over to the heaving man, grabbing his forearm mid swing.  
Cas looked up, eyes wide and chest heaving- Sweat poured down his face, drenching his shirt.

"Cas. Slow down."  
Instead of him standing down, a small vein pulsed in his forehead and he wanked his arm out of Dean's grasp.

"What the hell Cas?" Dean yelled, pushing back on Cas's chest instinctively.  
That was it; something in Cas seemed to snap. Growling, he launched himself at Dean, catching him off guard with a quick upper cut. Dean stumbled back as Cas's knuckles caught him hard in the cheek, knocking him back.

Dean stumbled back into the closet bag, looking at Cas in complete bewilderment, and then rage.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" He roared, running back at Cas and shoving him hard against the wall, effectively pinning him there, hands on his shoulders. "What the hell is your problem?"

Instead of answering, Cas effectively kneed him in the groin. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to push Dean away from him.

"Get off of me!" He yelled, his face red and hands curled right into fists.  
Dean, finally able to stand, held up his hands, still wheezing a bit.

"Calm down." He tried to reason. Cas put his hands down, chest heaving and panic etched on his face.  
Dean took his chance, propelling him back against the wall, this time effectively pinning his arms down and using his knee to prevent a repeat of last time.  
"Cas.' He grunted, leveling his gaze to meet Cas's shifting one. 'Just stop and talk to me."

Cas finally looked at Dean, and his face crumbled. "Dean." He choked, tears spilling freely.

"Dammit, Cas." Dean muttered, his stomach knotting as Cas feel apart in front of him.

"I could barely move the bag." He whispered, his voice wrecked. "I used to lift cars without a second thought and now...' He trailed off, closing his eyes. 'I am useless Dean. I am no use to anyone."

Dean was already shaking his head, letting go of one of Cas's shoulder to grip his chin tightly, forcing him to look up.  
"You are not worthless. You have done a hell of a lot of good in this world and you are wanted here." Cas trembled underneath his touch.

"How many times do I need to tell you that we need you?"  
Eyes glassy, Cas nodded, choking back a sob that threatened to break free of his lips he was trying so hard to keep tightly closed.

Deans head was swimming due to the proximity to his friend, Cas was leaning heavily on him on him now, and Dean loosened his hold on the shaking man. As soon as 

Dean let go, Cas went to his knees, dry heaving almost immediately.

Gingerly, Dean laid a hand on Castiel, trying to soothe him as best he could. Truth be told, his face hurt, his heart was beating out of his chest and the constant contact with Cas was getting to him. And he wasn't handling it well.

"I'm sorry." The smaller man whispered, looking up guiltily at Dean. "I shouldn't have hurt you."

Dean forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes, and shrugged.

"Still got a hell of a right hook on ya man."

Cas back down at the floor.

"If you want me to leave I understand." He paused, shutting his eyes-waiting for Deans response.

Sighing, he crouched next to Castiel. "Let's get you to your room. And we need to get you some clothes, can't keep wearing mine."

Cas looked up incredulous, accepting Deans help up.

"Dean, I-"

Dean just shook his head, cutting him off.

"Its ok." He looked at the confused, wide eyed man in front of him, his stomach flip flopping. "It's ok."

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean went to the kitchen to grab some frozen peas for his face, it was throbbing. Man still had some insane upper body strength.  
"Dude what happened to your face?" Gasped Kevin incredulously.

Dean shrugged. "Just a little sparing with Cas. Got a little intense."

Sam was staring at him curiously, watching Dean from across the table.

"What?" Dean asked, irritated at the attention.

"I think I found us a hunt." Sam said, bringing his attention to his laptop. "Just about two hours from here. Seems like a simple salt and burn."

"You want to go on a hunt?" Dean asked incredulously. "Dude, I just got you to where you don't look like you're going to fall over and you want to go after a ghost?" Dean shook his head, sitting down at the long table. Kevin sat between them, tablet on the table, simply watching their interaction.

"I'll go." Came a voice behind them. Cas stood in the hall way, still drenched in sweat from the sparing and holding a glass of water. "The practice would be valuable, and the change of scenery would be pleasing."

Dean's face fell quickly to a blank, angry glare.  
"No frikken way." He stood up, slamming the thawing peas back into the freezer.

"But Dean-"  
"I said no, Cas!" Dean yelled, slamming the freezer door with more force then necessary.

Dean felt the bubbling anger boiling inside him, so he pushed his way passed Cas, ignoring Sam's exasperated pleas to sit down and stalked off to his bedroom.

He slammed the door hard, even as he did so he realized how childish he was being, but at that point he didn't care.  
What the hell where they all thinking? Cas is barely recovered, Sam just is starting to look healthy and they think a hunt just sounds like a perfect idea at the moment.

He was pacing back and forth when he heard a sharp knocking on his door.

"Go away." He snapped.

"Dean may I please speak with you." Came Cas's muffled voice behind the door.

Dean stopped, groaning annoyed, he swung open the door.

"You have 5 minutes."

"Dean I do not understand why you are opposed to the proposition. I am centuries old and have been fighting before the earth was formed.' He paused, looking a bit hurt. 

'Do you find me so weak that you think I cannot handle a simple ghost?"

"Cas, its like that..."

"Then what is it?" Castiel inquired his trademark head tilt catching Dean off guard. His anger and frustration today, the way he moves, it so reminding him of the Cas he knows, the the badass angel that lifted him from hell. Shit.

"Shit, I don't know Cas. Just don't want you to get hurt.' He stumbled over his words, 'you or Sammy."

"Dean, someone has to protect these people. I want to help." Cas paused, looking down. "I need to feel useful."  
Dean didn't know if it was the broken sound of Cas's voice, or the fact that ever since Sam mentioned the hunt, there was an itch at the back of his mind. The stress of everything was getting to him, between Sam and Cas he had a lot on I his plate and it sure would feel good to just burn some shit. Get back to things that make sense.

"Yea, ok.' He pushed pass Cas, who was staring at him surprised, to open his door. "Leave tomorrow, better get some sleep." He gestured to the hall, which Cas obediently followed.  
Dean shut the door before Cas could follow through with whatever he was going to ask.

Opening his closet, he combed through his rag tag assortment of clothes and pushed back a few boxes that held what very few possessions he owned, finally pulling the beat up green duffel bag from the back. A few things remained inside, a fully stocked first aid kit, a couple crumpled protein bars and a blood stained rag he tossed in the trash can.

He realized he was shaking a bit as he packed a change of clothing into the bag; he was nervous. But not for what most people would be nervous before walking into a ghost infested hell hole, but the fact that this would be the first hunt Cas had been on since he fell, Sam would be alone again and he'd be looking out for not only his ass this time, but the fallen angels as well.

He packed his clothing and checked the first aid kit before collapsing on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Chewing his bottom lip for a moment, he made heaved a sigh before pushing open his bedside drawer and pulling out a small hidden flask he tucked away some tattered books he hid from Sam. He hadn't drank anything harder than beer for awhile now, he'd kept his alcoholism under control, but tonight he needed it. At least that's what he told himself as he took a swig, the whiskey having a distinct metal taste from sitting in the flask for so long. But it went down smooth and took the edge off and that's all that he told himself.

He turned off the light, tucking the flask near his hip, not even bothering to say goodnight or even take off his shoes.  
He was asleep before he knew what hit him.

SPNSPSNSPNSPN

Dean woke with a start. Something wasn't right.

He sprung out of bed, immediately regretting his decision. His head pounded and he mouth felt like sandpaper. He stumbled into the bathroom, gulping down water from the sink, letting it run down his chin.

It hit him like a ton of bricks.

Cas.

He grabbed his phone and looked at the time in horror;9am.

He sprinted out of his room and down the hall, carefully walking silently around Sam's closed door. Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes as he opened Cas's door. It was still dark, the light casting a yellow light on the deserted bed.

He raised a hand to his mouth, closing his eyes as he found Castiel curled in the corner, eyes tightly screwed shut. His blanket twisted around his feet, Dean could make out toppled over lamp and strewn pillows showing an obvious signs of struggle.

"Dammit Cas. I'm so sorry man." He whispered. Kneeling next to the man, he carefully drew him to his chest, heaving him up and carrying him over to his bed. He barely stirred, if anything he snuggled deeper into Dean's embrace.

Dean set him down, pulling the covers up over the sleeping man.  
"I'm so sorry I wasn't here Cas."

His hand reached to pat his head, the urge to touch him almost overwhelming him. But he stopped himself, hand hovering and closing into empty space.  
Slowly he walked out of the room, feeling worse than he had before.

__________________

Dean still felt like shit as he poured himself another cup of coffee, half heartily listening to Sam drone on about to the case.  
Pretty open and shut. Abandon warehouse, ghostly sightings, etc. it was almost an insult to take it, but hey, It'd get him out of the bunker and he hoped would boost Cas's self confidence.  
The thought of Cas made Dean sick, the thought of him going through his nightmares alone, all night...had he been waiting for Dean to swoop in like he normally did? That made him feel even worse than the nagging headache did.  
He had packed the impala and was about to go in to wake Cas, when he appeared in the dining hall. He looked smaller, his eyes bruised from lack of sleep, his mouth pulled into a thin line.  
He didn't meet Deans eye as he passed.  
"Coffee?" He rasped, pointing his question to Sam who looked surprised.  
"Um, yea Cas in the kitchen. Just made a pot." Sam replied, looking at Dean who had hung his head. As soon as Cas disappeared Sam kicked Dean under the table.  
"Ow! What the hell man?" Dean exclaimed, nearly dumping his second cup in surprise.  
"What did you do?" Sam accused, pointing at the door way where Cas had only moments ago walked through.  
Dean must have looked guilty because Sam slapped on his most irritating bitch face, and glared at Dean.  
"You know he was up all night right?" He whispered.  
Dean looked down at his mug.  
"It's not our business Sam."  
"The hell it isn't our business! You've been slipping in there every night for a week now, Dean!' Dean flushed bright red, and started so stuttering. Sam rolled his eyes, 'Don't try to deny it! I'm not stupid. Why the hell didn't you help him last night?"  
Dean was quiet. And then Sam noticed the 2 pain killers sitting forgotten by his nearly empty coffee mug, and the blood shot eyes.  
He leaned back in his chair, exasperated. "Seriously?" He got up, closed his laptop roughly. "Sometimes, you can be so damn clueless.' He walked up the stairs leading to the hall, stopping and turning around. 'Have a safe hunt."  
Dean nodded, slinging back to the pain pills with a grimace.  
If only his head would stop pounding.

Cas entered the room, pajamas slung low on his narrow hips, perpetuating his smaller frame considerably. Without his tench coat, he looked so much smaller; though if the gym yesterday was any indication, he still possessed a considerable amount of strength hidden in his lithe form.  
"Morning." Dean greeting, grabbing the newspaper Sam had discarded.  
Cas just grunted, gulping the strong smelling brew.  
They sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound was the crinkling of the newspaper and Cas's coffee cup being set on the table.  
"I'm sorry." Dean muttered, face half hidden in the classifieds.  
"Pardon?" Cas rasped, his voice rough. It made Dean feel even worse, how bad was last nights episode?  
"About last night. I slept through it, and I'm sorry."  
Cas didn't say anything. "You're not my keeper Dean. It's not your responsibility to tuck me in at night." He stood abruptly. "I'll meet you outside, I'll only be a moment."  
And before Dean could retort, the hurt man hurriedly brushed past him and up the stairs.  
"Dammit." Dean groaned.  
Well this was going to be a great trip.

SPNSPSNPSNPSN

The Impala rumbled down the road, Deans window was rolled down, letting the crisp fall air in as his favorite mix tape wafted through the speakers.  
Cas had not said a word for the past 35 minutes. He just continued to star blankly out of the passenger window, fingers worrying the ends of his shirt.  
They arrived at the warehouse quicker then they had anticipated- mostly due to the fact that Dean needed to get out of the car. The silence was suffocating him and Cas refused to look at him.  
Dean geared the car into park, rolling up his window.  
Cas started to get out when Dean barked, "Hold up."  
Cas stiffened, but complied.  
Dean looked him dead in eye, all hints of embarrassment and humor where snuffed. "You let me do the fighting, you stay the hell out of its way and mine. You have lighter and everything else you need with you to burn whatever is holding this poor bastard here."  
He paused, gesturing for Castiel to follow him to the back of the car, where he popped the hood to reveal the weapons hidden below.  
He pulled out his sawed off shotgun and pushed it at Cas. "Salt rounds, you know what do with them." Cas nodded, clutching the weapon in his hands. Dean knew Sam had showed him the basics and was confident in his ability to at least hit a spirit with a salt round.  
"Ok, this one should be pretty easy, since the last person who died here burned in a factory fire." Dean explained, shutting the trunk and placing a blueprint of the warehouse down, smoothing it with his hands. "This room here took the most damage, company left a lot of shit behind so look for anything-helmet, work gloves, whatever."  
Cas nodded again, his eyes raking over the blue print as if he was committing it to memory.

"Alright let's do this." They walked up to the door, Dean holding out his arm to stop Cas before he opened the old, steel door. It groaned in protest before letting out stale air into their faces.  
Cas coughed a bit, but followed Dean obediently into the dimly lit room. Since the windows had been blown out in a few spots or the victims of vandalism, what little light from outside streamed in allowing them to walk easier through the rubble.  
The fully they didn't need to worry about security guards or anyone calling in; they where in the middle of nowhere, and since the company couldn't keep security guards for more than a few days, they just gave up and let the place become a haven for vandalism and vagrants. But from the look of the place, even they had abandoned the idea.  
Dean was watching Cas closely out of the corner of his is eye, he looked vigilant, his mouth closed tight and eyes sweeping every corner of the room. He didn't look the least bit spooked.

They rounded a corner, and smack into an open area, still blackened with smoke damage. Dean barely had time to react when he saw a woman, standing in then to middle of the room, her hands in his leather jacket, just grinning at them.  
"Just the two I was hoping for." Came her voice, nasally and soaked in mirth. "Knew we could get the angel out of his hole in the ground." She smiled, her eyes flicking to black.

"Cas! Run!" Dean yelled, shoving Cas out the door, firing a quick shot at the demon. It was too late, he found himself flying hard across the room, his back slamming into a support beam.  
He saw Cas being pinned to wall as the demon came closer to him, smiling all the while.  
"Stay the hell away from him you black eyed bitch!" Dean roared, trying in vain to drop from his invisible chains.  
"You can shut up now Winchester." The demon ordered, smiling as Dean found himself unable to speak, let alone move. "Besides, I didnt come all this way for you."

She turned her attention back to Castiel, who remained unmoving against the door, shotgun laying abandoned by his feet.  
Slowly, licking her lips and ran a hand down Castiel's cheek, chuckling as he forced his head away.  
"Didn't see that coming without your wings strapped on, did you angel boy?" She teased, running his black fingers nails through his hair only to pull back, exposing his neck.  
"I may not be able to see your twisted soul demon, but I can still smell the stink of sulphur on your breath." Cas rasped venomously, wincing as the demon yanked harder on his hair, twisting this neck awkwardly.  
With her free hand, she trailed down to shirt, playing with the hem of it before yanking it up to his collar bone exposing his toned stomach.  
She tsked. "Ah Dean, old age is getting to you.' Dean snarled at her as she smiled. "Should have probably gotten angel boy inked up before you took him on a ride along. Don't you think?"

Deans eyes widened and he looked to Cas, still suspending a few inches off the ground, head turned and breath coming out in pants.  
"Boss lady is simply dying to get her claws in you." He heard her whisper.  
With that, her head flung up and black smoke poured from her mouth, twirling above Cas before shoving itself down his throat. His body lurched, muscles taunt and eyes shut tight.  
Dean dropped as the demons powers where temporarily weakened due to the switch. He crumbled to the ground, immediately pulling the demon blade from his belt. He was thankful now that Sam had insisted that he take it. How stupid could they had been; of course it was a trap.

Fingering the knife, weighing it in his right hand, he stood.  
"Cas?" He ventured.  
Castiel was heaving, his hands rolled into tight fists at his sides. Groaning, he pulled himself away from the wall, rolling his shoulders.  
He waiting until he looked up, grinning gruesomely before snapping his eyes wide open.  
Dean staggered back when nothing but solid black met his own, the smile too wide to be Cas's and brought back unpleasant memories of leviathan.  
"Cas, no..." He trailed, grinding his teeth in anger and pushing himself into a fighting stance.  
"Oh Dean, you really want to hurt Cas's new body? Heard he doesn't bounce back like he used too." Goaded the demon, the sound of Castiel's deep voice reverberating on the steel wall.  
Dean gritted his teeth. "You're not Cas, you son of a bitch."  
Not-Cas chuckled darkly, running his hands over his chest. "No, but I am inhabiting his body and mind. And oh boy...' he grinned, tapping the side of his temple. 'The things rattling on up here."  
Something in Dean snapped, growling with animosity he punched not-Cas in the mouth, trying to shut out the fact that Cas's blood stained his knuckles now.  
"Well that wasn't very nice." Snarled the demon, contorting Cas's features into such an angry mask it almost made Dean take a step back.  
In an instant, the demon was on top of Dean, pinning his against the wall, his hot breath gusting onto his neck.

"So, you got a plan or just wanting a free ride?" Dean asked, trying not to let his eyes skim over Cas's, who was still much too close.  
"I dont't, but Abaddon does." That got Deans attention.  
"She's dead. Sam torched her ass."  
Cas, or the demon, laughed, throwing his head back in amusement.  
"Oh Dean, you really think something that old, that glorious could stay dead?" The demon went back to examining Dean, his eyes racking over Dean like a piece of meat. "She had some pretty specific instructions for you too."  
Dean grinned, the smile dripping in mirth. "Yea, well give her my regards will ya?" Cas's smile drooped as he looked down; the demon blade had finally been wriggled into Dean's fingers.

"Sorry Cas." he muttered before driving the knife hard into Cas's thigh.  
Cas screamed, immediately dropping to the debris littered floor, gripping his leg. Dean quickly began chanting, his voice cracking as Cas's body writhed on the floor before the demon finally expelled itself, causing Cas's back to arch unnaturally and his head twisting side to side in agony.  
A black ring of smoke signaled the demons descent back into the underworld, Cas's panting and whimpering body left still twisted on the ground.  
"Cas!" Dean yelled, dropping instantly to his knees, cradling Cas's head gently as he gulped air greedily. "Talk to me man, come on."  
"Dean." Cas gasped, his hand instantly grasping the hilt of the demon blade still buried in his leg.

Dean promptly tore his hand away, trying to ignore his whimper of aggravation.  
"Gotta leave it, you could bleed out if you don't." Dean informed grimly.  
"That was very unpleasant." Admitted Castiel, his face crumpling.  
"Ok, lets get you out of he-" Dean fell quiet as he heard footfalls and hushed voices approaching rapidly.  
"Goddammit..."Hissed Dean, dragging Cas to the corner of the room, holding his finger to his mouth.

"She was supposed to check in, its taking too long." He heard. Two demons, at least. He should have known they would have had back up.  
The only weapon he had was his gun which had been thrown across the building and the knife currently residing in Castiel's thigh.

It only took a moment for the door to open and Dean to be thrown against the wall for the second time that night.

"This is getting ridiculous!" He huffed, thankfully the two demons focusing their attention on him, not noticing the injured ex angel in the corner.  
"Where is she?" Snarled the taller demon, his eyes flicking to black in rage.  
"Might have to take a trip downstairs and ask her yourself." Grinned Dean, wincing as he felt blood dribbling down his chin from the force of the impact against the wall.  
As Dean closed his eyes when dark haired demon roared, reeling back to bring down a blow upon Dean, he opened his eyes when he smelled the familiar smell of burning ozone and sulphur. The smaller demon had been felled, his body still jolting with the dying of the light.

Dean looked up in shock, his eyes locking behind the tall possessed man, where Cas stood shakily, blood of the fallen demon dripping down his arm.  
The demon lurched towards Cas, who deftly dodged the attack and thrust the demon blade through the mans chin. Dean dropped unceremoniously from his immobilization, staggering over to Cas who dropped the blade as his legs betrayed him.  
"What the hell where you thinking?" Snapped Dean, trying to staunch the flow of crimson pooling much too quickly underneath Casiel's leg. He ripped the damn thing out. And saved his sorry ass.  
"I believe the words you are looking for should be more of gratitude." Castiel gritted out, his voice thick with sarcasm.  
"Yea, yea thanks asshole. Now lets get you to the motel before you bleed out."

SPNSPNSPNSPN

The motel was actually not bad on Dean's list. Of course, living in the bunker had definitely spoiled him; he immediately missed the memory foam as he carried Cas bridal style to the bed.

"We never speak of this." He had uttered as he grunted, lifting the injured man from the passengers seat.  
Cas hadn't responded, his teeth clenched against the onslaught of pain as the movement caused his leg to jar.

"Thank you." Whispered Cas as Dean dug through the duffel bag, a sound of triumph escaping from his lips as he found the first aid kit rather quickly.  
"For what?" Dean inquired, not looking up as he threw an assortment of gauze and antibiotics.

"For persuading the abomination to leave my body."  
"I did persuade anyone, Cas.' He replied darkly. "I stabbed you with the demon blade."  
"All the same."

Dean nodded, turning his attention to the leg wound now, nodding his head thankfully to see that the blood has slowed considerably.  
"We're going to need to cut these off." Dean said, gesturing to the ruined jeans.  
Cas looked up, concerned. "They are yours."

Shrugging, he took the scissors from the pack and took Castiel's leg in his hand, lifting it off the bed a few inches.  
He worked quickly tossing the offending articles on the hotel floor; the wound was deep but clean. Surprisingly so, since Cas had deliberately yanked the cursed blade from his muscle.

"I'm going to have to clean this, its going to need stitches." Dean informed grimly, he knew Cas needed a doctor but a wound like this and Cas with no identification could pose problems. They where too close to the bunker to draw that kind of attention to themselves; attention to Cas.

Castiel had nodded, not looking to keen on the idea himself.  
Dean pulled the hidden flask from his jeans, taking a quick swig to calm his nerves. He held up the flask, tilting it towards Cas.  
"Take the edge off?"

Cas looked at the flask with doubt but reached for it regardless.  
He grimaced as it went down, causing Dean to chuckle.

"Used to be able to drink a shit ton more before you got your wings clipped."

Cas rolled his eyes. "Yes, Dean I am aware."

"This is gonna sting like a bitch." Dean warned as he pushed a cloth damp with alcohol.  
Castiel lurched off the bed, screaming at the burning sensation he was not expecting. Dean pushed him back, hushing him and the motel guest next to them pounded on the walls at the noise.

Castiel was hissing through closed teeth, his eyes closed and head pressed against the headboard.

"Calm down, almost done." Dean replaced the dirty gauze with a clean one, his hand restraining Castiel as best he could.  
He worked quickly, his hunters instinct taking over as he paid no mind Cas as he tended the wound.

"You um, where a badass back there by the way.' Dean praised before clarifying. "Taking out two demons like that I mean."  
Cas only nodded his thanks, sweat dripping down his brow. But Dean could swear he could see a quick smile flash across his face.

"There." Dean exclaimed, pulling back to admire his handy work. The stitched where small and neat, effectively holding the wound closed.  
Cas peered at the wound, Dean telling himself that he did not notice Cas wetting his lips, or that fact that the shirt he had borrowed had unbuttoned in the struggle and exposed his tan chest.

"It looks clean. I am grateful for your talent."  
Dean shrugged, tossing the soiled clothes and utensils into the small trash can near the bed. "Kind of comes with the job."

The energy shifted in the room as Castiel shifted on the bed.  
"I was careless. I neglected to ward myself against demons and jeopardized the mission."

Dean shrugged non committal. "It wasnt just you man. This whole no grace thing is a tough thing to get used to on both ends."  
Cas nodded but didn't look any less upset.

"May I change? These clothes are starting to smell." Cas stated, changing the conversation, picking at the plaid shirt in distain.  
Dean tried not to feel his heart race and Cas undid the remaining buttons and sliding the shirt off his shoulders.

"Um, yea here." Dean tossed a plain white tee in his direction, completely averting his gaze.  
"Is something wrong?" Cas asked concerned, slipping the tee over his head and shoulders.

"No." He snapped, picking up the discarded flask and emptying the contents in a single gulp.  
"You should not ingest so much alcohol." Chastised Castiel, eyes squinting as Dean tossed the empty container on the table.

"And you,' Dean retorted, pointing at Cas. 'Should mind your own business."  
A look of hurt flickered across Cas's face, almost too quickly for Dean to catch.

Cas squared his jaw, standing up with a grimace and grunt.

"Cas, sit your ass down!"

That seemed to egg Cas on more. To Dean's surprise he stalked over to him and shoved him against the wall with little force.  
"You're going to tear your stitches!" Reminded Dean, looking at the determined stare that Cas was giving him.  
"I. don't. care." Cas snapped back, pushing him again. "I am tired of your attitude Dean Winchester. I am tired of your blatant disregard for your health, I am not sure if I need to remind you, but I cannot heal you anymore."  
It was Cas who realized it first; their proximity to each other, the heat coming off their bodies and something that wasn't anger shifted between them.

"Cas..." Dean warned, his eyes flicking behind him, anywhere then his face.  
"Why won't you look at me?" Came a soft question, laced with desperation. "Am I that pathetic to you that you can no longer look me in the eye?"  
That jolted Dean out of his revere. Cas thought he hated him, thought he pitied him.

That he hated him.  
And that broke something in Dean. He brought his eyes to Cas's glassy ones, still glazed with pain and now absolute loss.

Surprising even himself, he took Cas's face in his hands all the while his finger tips brushed his cheekbones.

"Cas no..." He whispered, his voice breaking. His breath coming out in short, barely controlled gasps. Cas looked confused, his eyes wide and his searching Dean's face with such intensity he almost drew back.  
Almost.

"I don't hate you." Dean punctuated, his face too close to Cas's'.

It happened like a crash of waves, like an impenetrable force through and he couldn't stop himself, shit he didn't WANT to stop himself.

He had denied this too damn long and now he was hurting one person he would do anything to spare pain.

He crashed his lips into Cas's chapped ones, pulling him against him, his hands still on his face. Cas was frozen there, Dean surging against him uncontrollably. It was like fire coursing through him, and it was nothing like he could have imagined. It was desperate, tinged with guilt and regret. The swipe of Dean's tongue on his lower lip spurred Cas to action, who softly put his hand against Dean's neck and pulling him closer. Cas finally moved his lips and Dean came undone, nearly moaning as Cas timidly pressed back.

Dean was pulling back before he took things to quickly. Before he could explain.

Cas looked wrecked; his pupils blown wide and his lips bruised. His trademark head tilt made Dean smile thinnly.  
He pressed his forehead to Cas's, humming roughly, getting Cas's attention.

"I don't hate you."

__________

It took a moment for Dean's ears to stop ringing. The constant feeling of Cas pressed against, breathing the same air, sharing the same space...it was intoxicating.  
His forehead was still pressed against the smaller mans, he was trying to organize his thoughts. It was just hitting him what he had done; there was no going back now. His lips had touched Cas's. There was no way to spin that, no glancing back to his own space, no ignoring the looks shared between them.  
Shit, he shouldn't had done that. What had he been thinking.  
"Dean." Whispered Cas. Thank god it was him that broke the silence, because he couldn't bear to.  
Dean's eyes searched Cas's, trying to breath evenly.  
He didn't see disgust, but more curiosity and he'd be damned if he didn't see a small smile appearing.  
"Yea Cas."  
"Are you possessed or otherwise indisposed of your normal function state?" Castiel asked, staring him straight in the eye, completely serious.  
Dean was taken aback. That was NOT what he had expected to hear.  
"No!" He exclaimed, slightly offended. but then he stopped, dragging a hand down his face. "And yes. Goddammit."

"Dean..." Came Cas's soft voice, the sound dancing on the edge of pleading.  
Dean held up his, trying to gather his thoughts and failing miserably. But he did notice Cas leaning heavily on the wall, his injured leg not holding any weight as he stared at him with wide eyes.  
"Dammit Cas." He murmured, grabbing his forearm. "You have to keep weight off that leg until we get back to the bunker."

"But Dean~" Dean just stared at him and he closed his mouth, his face dropping. "Yes. I suppose I should."  
Dean tried not to let his hands or gaze linger as he got Cas situated on the stiff, motel bed.  
"Im, um, going to take the chair." Dean stated and grabbed the only pillow left that wasn't supporting Cas's back or leg.  
Cas just nodded, still staring at his hands.  
"Look Cas~" Cas looked up, hopeful.  
He couldn't. He couldn't do this.  
"Yea, good night."

Dean tried to ignore the hurt look that slipped past Castiel's blue eyes, that was quickly replaced with stoney indifference that he had seen all too often when Cas first came to him. After he had saved him.  
Dean shook his head, turning off the table side lamp so the other man wouldn't be able to see how affected he was. How vulnerable he had made himself.  
Why had he done that?  
He'd ruined everything. Again.

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean woke to the dark motel, the streetlights filtering in through the oversized blinds, making the scene in front of him visible.  
Cas was curled tight in the middle of the bed, nearly sobbing as he shook from fright.  
"Shit!" He cursed, throwing the coat he had draped over himself on the floor as he crept to the bed.  
Cas was sweating, but thankfully he was still cool to the touch, so no fever so far.  
"Cas, man, wake up." He whispered, his own body aching from being thrown into the warehouse wall. Repeatedly.  
The lite touch on Cas's shoulder caused him to burrow deeper into the nest he had twisted himself in.  
"Please man wake up." Dean moaned, almost getting frustrated. It took him getting drunk to get a full nights sleep; he was getting too old for this.  
"Dean..." Came a choked whimper from his still unconscious friend, making him stop in his tracks. His thoughts froze, his breathing hitched. He was having a nightmare, about him.  
He closed his eyes against the onslaught on images, all those sleepless nights after purgatory, the leviathans, everything. Now it was happening, but this time to Cas. He had messed up. On an epic level.  
He tried in vain to wake him, but the dream seemed to have him in its hold.  
Dean stood, growling and grabbing at his hair in frustration. He did this, he kissed him and then practically threw him away. All of these emotions rolling through Cas where amplified, and he hurt him worse than any knife wound.  
It was the whine that did him in, the broken sound that came from Cas. Even when he was sleeping.  
He made up his mind, the only thing that had helped in the past.  
"Man up Winchester." He thought, standing next to the bed.  
This time, he striped off his shirt and climbed into bed and straightening Cas out along with the blankets, pulling him to his chest. He did this to him, all the shit knocking around in his head, everything he has put Cas through and what Cas had put him through. Guilt coursed through him like fire, burning his stomach and making his head pound.  
"Dammit Cas I am so sorry." He whispered in his ear, Cas's tousled hair brushing against his cheek as he pulled him closer, his back flush against Dean's chest.  
It took a few moments of weak tossing, but Cas settled his head on Dean's arm underneath him and curled into him deeply, sighing contently.  
Dean stayed awake for awhile, just watching him to make sure the nightmares didn't return.  
Just like Cas had done for him so many times before.

SPNSPNSPNSPN

The harsh florescent light was replaced with the morning sun, spilling in and warming the room.  
Castiel stirred, immediately aware of the throbbing in his leg as all of the previous days events came rushing back to him. He groaned weakly, his mouth dry and lips cracked.  
Lips.  
Dean had kissed him. His heart skipped, then dropped as he remembered how Dean reacted afterwards. What did he think would happen, after all that he had put the man through? He drug him out of hell to just replace it with another.  
It was then he felt another body behind him, an arm slung over his waist and another tucked underneath him, cushioning his head.  
Castiel knew who it was, only one person felt like this, only one person would do this after everything. Dean.  
He didn't move for a long while, his stiff joints rejoicing in the small comfort of warmth and his soul with the gift of companionship. Of touch. Cas did not realize how much he needed it until he had a taste of it last night, the brush of another person, the electricity that came from the touching of skin to skin or mouth to mouth.  
He craved it; of all the terrible things he was going through, his emotions running high and his senses revolting as they became used to his new body, this was the one good thing he had felt.  
Castiel was starting to understand hugging, holding hands...kissing.

It was Dean who moved first, waking with a loud yawn and the arm that had been draped over Cas's waist moved. The swelling of his emotions came to a crash when reality set in, Dean stiffening as his arm picked up from Cas's waist.  
"Cas, you awake?" Dean inquired, his voice rough from sleep.  
Cas just nodded, wanting to stay buried next to Dean. Not wanting it be over quite yet.  
But Dean didn't move, in fact he stilled as if in thought.  
"I'm sorry." Dean whispered. "About last night." He clarified, and Cas nodded.  
"I apologize as well. Things got out of hand."  
"Yea." Thats when Dean moved to leave the bed and Cas turned stiffly towards him.  
"Everything hurts." Castiel notified Dean, wincing as he sat up.  
"Yea getting thrown into walls and knifed will do that to ya."  
Dean had disappeared into the small bathroom only to return with a small cup of tap water and two small pills that Cas took without question.  
"That should take the edge off the pain. No more until we get to the bunker."  
Cas nodded, and watched Dean start to pack up. Not that there was that much to pack, most everything had stayed in the duffel bag save the first aid kit. Dean still had his jeans from last night on.

Castiel found himself gazing at Dean, still shirtless from sleeping next to him. Dean caught him and they both stopped as Dean shifted nervously. He grabbed the bag and pulled out a clean shirt, turning around and pulling it over his head.  
Cas looked down, ashamed of himself. He needed to control himself, his urges. Being human was much more complicated that he had previously thought.

Dean's phone lit up on the table, which he retrieved and seemed to close his eyes against the barrage of questions.  
Cas come hear Sam's phone rising over the ear piece as Dean had explained the situation.  
"Yes, Sam I said Abaddon. Bitch isn't as dead as we thought."  
Another ring of questions that where too muffled for Cas to hear.  
"Dude, the warding will keep him safe once we get back. She only found us because we went out. So thanks for that!"  
Cas winced; he hated to see them fight. They both fought dirty and the tension between them made life difficult for everyone, he could not imagine what it would be like living underneath the same roof with them for such long periods of time.  
"Yea we're headed home.' Dean stopped, rolling his eyes. "Yes we'll be careful." He hung up,annoyed.  
Turning to Cas he pulled the duffel over his shoulder. "Time to hit the road, we stayed too long as it is."  
Cas nodded and started to rise, but collapsed mid way up, his leg seizing.  
"Don't rip your damn stitches, just stay put for a second." Dean warned, pointing at him as he went to pack up baby.  
So Cas sat there. He was hungry, tired and his leg ached. He wished now that he had listened to Dean in the first place; he was too inexperienced to hunt.

Dean stomped back in, shaking him to reality. Leaning over, Dean took Cas's waist and lifted him gently to his feet. He must have felt Cas pull away a bit, careful not to invade Dean's space. It was hard enough as it was to be around him, especially after last night, but now he felt if everything he did would upset Dean. He couldn't lose him, not now.  
"Its ok." Dean muttered, pulling him closer causing their hips to brush as he assisted Cas to the Impala.  
Cas tried to ignore the tingling sensation that travel through him as Dean held him tighter when they stepped down from the sidewalk.  
He deposited him next to the open passenger door, hand lingering a bit on his hip. "You got it from here?"  
Cas nodded, sitting gingerly in the passengers seat, leg stiffly planted in front of him.  
The chill air brought the unpleasant sensation of goosebumps, his one leg still exposed to the elements due to the impromptu alternations that his wound had required.

Cas had caught Dean peering at him from the corner of his eye, and turned on the heater at the sight of the raised flesh.  
"I'm hungry. Does not waking require immediate sustenance?" Questioned Cas, a few miles down the road. His humanly urges where rearing its ugly head as his stomach grumbled for the third time.  
Dean smiled, and Cas took it in. Lately Dean smiling was a rare thing.  
"Yea, coffee and donuts sound good."  
Cas nodded in agreement. It only took them a few minutes to find a small donut shop, and be back on the road with coffee in hand and sugary pastries sitting between them in a large box.  
"These are delicious." Cas stated, his mouth full with a glazed donut, washing it down with a sip of the coffee being held precariously in a thin styrofoam cup.  
"Don't tell Sam." Dean grumbled between bites. "I promised him I would introduce you to all that rabbit food crap he eats. Health and what not." Dean was on his third donut.  
Cas smiled. "Sam is kind."  
Dean scoffed, but Cas saw his face soften a bit.  
"Hows the leg?" Den asked between mouthfuls of the sugary stuff.  
Truth be told it hurt worse than he had imagined being stabbed would; which is peculiar since he had been stabbed a multitude of times in his existence. But, honestly he had no other basis for comparison, pain was just pain at this point.  
"It is uncomfortable, and the throbbing makes it hard to concentrate. But I do not feel as if I am infected." He answered truthfully, taking another gulp of cooling coffee, the caffeine settling his nerves. He saw Dean look at him sorrowfully, just out of the corner of his eye once again, and though it was fleeting Cas knew that the Righteous Man pitied him. What a sight he must be, a creature so powerful brought to such lows as of this. Dean must find him pitiful. And thats all last night was; pity.  
But he held on to it, because it made him feel warm and by God, loved. For the first time in a long time he felt it; the warmth spreading through him, quickening his heartbeat and muddling his mind. He tried at first to push it down, with everything he had done he did not deserve this feeling. But now, between the pain of his grievous injuries, the always present pangs of hunger and fatigue, it seemed like the only thing currently holding him together.

They drove in silence, Dean thankfully was being more liberal with the over the counter pain meds and promised him relief when they arrived at the bunker. At this point Cas welcomed it with open arms, not only from the pain of the wound but his mind felt wrong. He felt hollow and confused after the possession. After all the times he saw it happened, he never thought it was like this for the vessels.

They pulled up to the bunker finally, Dean bagging up the discarded coffee cups and brushing the donut crumbs that had dared fall onto baby's seats.  
Cas opened the door, Dean quickly grabbing his arm and throwing it over his shoulder, supporting him enough to hobble to the entrance of the bunker.  
Dean kicked the solid entrance hard, wobbling a bit under Cas's weight. It opened quickly, and Cas found himself drenched in water before he even saw who it was.  
"Sorry! Couldn't be too careful!" Came an apologetic voice.  
Cas blinked to see a redhead blocking their entrance.

Charlie was home.  
________________

 

"Charlie?!" Sputtered Dean, wiping off the excess holy water from his face. "Hell are you doing here? Thought you'd be gone for another week?"

Charlie looked around them suspiciously, "Yea, yea lets save the pleasantries for inside the heavily warded bunker, ok gentlemen?" She smiled, all but pulling them inside.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean demanded, quickly depositing Cas on the chair placed conveniently by the door. He shot Castiel an apologetic look when Cas let loose a less than pg rated curse word fly from his mouth at the abrupt landing.

"Its nice to see you too!" Charlie exclaimed, twisting the cap onto the water bottle. "If you haven't noticed, demons and the Queen of Hell is now looking for Castiel?"

Dean nodded, scoffing, "Yea Charlie, I think we figured that out the hard way."  
"Yea well, you and have the other angels Abaddon is going through. She is rallying a damn army full of demon and fallen angels, all who I might add, have personal vendetta against Cas!"  
Dean's face fell, all joking aside. "Where did you hear about this?"  
Charlie sighed, "Crowley is still receiving some information via his mind link with hell. Just little things now, but from what we can gather is that she is headed this way.' Charlie looked unsettled. 'And Dean, she is pissed."

Dean looked at Cas, who would not meet his gaze. His chest rose and fell rapidly and his hands where curled into tight fists.  
He put his attention back to Charlie.  
"Why does the Queen of Hell want Cas?"

"I am the key." Came Castiel's soft reply, his gaze still fixed on the floor.

"What?" Dean exclaimed incredulously, turning around sharply.

"I was the last half of the spell.' He muttered. 'It was only a theory, but I believed if I could some how reclaim my grace it would break the curse. But if that is true, then killing my now human form would prevent heaven from ever reopening."

Dean growled, stalking over to Cas and placing a firm grip on his shoulder, trying to reign in his frustration.  
"Don't you think,' He gritted, trying very hard not to yell. 'That we should have been made aware of this theory of yours?"  
Cas looked back at him, squinting in obvious anger.  
"Like I said, it was a theory only. I had no idea that there was any basis for concern."

"Concern? You don't think angels and demons gunning for you warrants any damn concern?"

Cas didn't answer, but just looked down again, shrugging out of his firm grip.

Sam Winchester appeared from the main area, looking genuinely concerned.

"Good, you're ok." He sighed in relief, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Yea we're good. You?" Dean replied, his eyes doing a once over on his brother. He noticed immediately that he was standing taller and his eyes seemed clear.

"Um, Dean..." Came Charlie wearily.

"So, we have hell at our doors again or what?" Dean asked Sam, ignoring Charlie.

"Or what. We've been having massive reads of supernatural disturbances as close to a 15 miles from the bunker. The wards make this place unreadable for demons or angels, but since Abaddon has been here before I think its just a matter of time until we are boxed in.' Sam paused. 'We have supplies but we can't keep held up here forever."

"Dean!" Charlie cried, this time with more urgency.

"What?" He asked exasperatedly, when he turned he saw Charlie holding a barely conscious Cas from toppling from his seated position.

"Cas?" Cried Sam, running to his side and kneeling, placing his hands on either side of Cas's face. "Dean!" He cried, snapping Dean out of his silence.

"Shit." He muttered, running along to pick Castiel out of Sam's grasp.  
"I thought you said it wasn't serious?" Snapped Sam, his brow furrowed and he followed close to Dean's heels, opening doors when they came to them, knowing he was headed to the infirmary.

"Yea well he seemed to be doing ok the ride here!" Dean snapped back, grunting under the dead weight of his fevered friend.

Sam barreled through the last door, revealing a large, well stocked room complete with a surgical bed in the middle of the room. The white room smelled strongly of disinfectant and stale air from lack of use. Being out of the game they had thankfully been able to steer clear of that room for quite a time.

"On the bed." Barked Sam, locking the rolling bed in place and placing a white, sterile sheet over it.

Grunting in effort, he hefted Cas onto the bed, frowning as Cas's head lolled to the side.

"Here." Charlie said, appearing at his side silently. She pushed a small bottle at him. "Under his nose."

"You think thats a good idea? Waking him up?" Dean questioned, fingering the smelling salts experimentally.

"I think he just fainted. He got all white before he went down." Charlie explained, placing a comforting hand on Castiel's head, apparently feeling no fever as she showed no signs of panic.  
Dean however was; seeing him still and pale like this made him uneasy. It was unnatural and out of order. He untwisted the cap of the bottle, holding it briefly underneath his nose.  
"Come on man, suppose to you taking care of me not the other way around." He whispered. He didn't think anyone could hear him, but he noticed Charlie give him a strange look before looking at Sam.

Cas woke with a start, his blue eyes standing in stark contrast to his sickly pale skin. He shot up, wincing and put this hand to his head.  
"Cas? Talk to me man, you with me?" Dean asked, trying to catch his eye.  
Cas nodded slowly, wetting his dry lips.  
"I apologize. I heard ringing in my ears and everything went unbelievably dark."  
"You fainted?" Sam sputtered incredulously.  
"It would appear so. Human emotions and stimulations have been recently been causing unforeseen problems."  
"You're stressed." Commented Charlie, matter of factly. "You need to relax. You've been through a lot."  
Smiling thinly, Cas shook his head. "I am afraid there is no time for relaxation at this time. I have put you all in grave danger and that must be rectified."

"Just stop." Snarled Dean, starting to place a hand over Castiel's clenched one, but stopping when he saw Sam observed the exchange questioningly. "Cas, you need to stop just for a night at least. We'll figure this out, like we always do.' He grabbed his chin, ignoring the looks from Charlie and Sam. 'In the morning."

Cas quivered under Dean's hold. His eyes boring in to Deans, melting into his grip. Dean's breath caught in his throat.

Sam cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting.

Dean dropped his hand, Cas's eyes closing as he pulled away.

"Sam, can um, you get him patched up and to his room? I need a shower." Dean asked as he started to leave the room.

Sam just nodded, still looking perplexed.

"I'll help!" Offered Charlie brightly, awkwardly trying to break the tension in the room and Sam nodded his thanks.

Cas looked lost in the big room, surrounded by white and surgical equipment, his wide eyes darting between Dean and Sam.

"Thanks."  
He tossed a small smile at Cas and left the room.

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Castiel was blissfully unaware of any goings on happening on his now numb leg. Sam was checking Dean's work and it had become nearly intolerable. He tried to explain to Sam that his nerves where working overtime, overloading and the smallest of stimuli.  
Sam had grabbed a small bottle and handed it to Charlie, explaining to Cas that it was local anesthetic and would take away all feeling momentarily. He had gripped the table hard when Charlie had first inserted the needle, but she had smiled at him and talked to him while Sam had re bandaged his leg.  
Sam's touch differed from Deans; there was no warmth and his stomach didn't flip when Sam looked at him. Charlie kept looking at him curiously, a question on her tongue but Cas could tell she was holding back.

"Lets get you in bed, huh?" Asked Sam, trying to sound upbeat. Cas just nodded, relieved to get to rest in his own bed.  
His bed.  
That caused him a small smile when he realized he felt safe enough here to call a small space his own, that they had gave him that right to do.

They hobbled down the corridor together, Sam's tall stature making it much more difficult to walk correctly so he practically carried the limp man. Charlie turned down his bed, fluffing his pillows and taking his shirt that he had now worn 2 days in a row and had a few blood splatters adorning the material.

Cas sat there, finally not in pain, though the feeling was starting to already return to his leg if the pins and needles sensation was indication.

They had left, leaving him to his own devices. He tried concentrating long enough to read a book, but to no avail. Cas kept glancing up at the closed door, in hopes Dean would be by, though he knew he had no reason to think he would be. Last night had been a fluke, and Dean regretted their interaction. But Cas could still taste Dean on his lips, the feel of his muscle frame pressed against him, holding him in place in that motel room.

He looked at the clock; he'd been sitting there like an idiot for over an hour. He wasn't coming.

Castiel sighed heavily, his throat burning a bit as he struggled to swallow his grief. As he reached for his lamp, there was a short rap at the door, causing his heart to skip and his breathing to halt.

"Yes?" He answered cautiously, fisting his hands in his sheets.

The door cracked open to reveal a freshly showered Dean, his hair still dripping in some places.  
"Heya Cas, can I come in?" He asked nervously, tossing a paranoid look over his shoulder as he did so.  
Cas nodded his consent, heart pounded in his chest. He did his best to quiet his breathing, but it just made it seem like he was trying too hard.

Dean stood at the foot of the bed uneasily, his hands uncharacteristically twitching, he stopped them by grasping the end of the footboard, his knuckles whitening.  
"Hows your leg?" He rasped, his voice deep with something Cas had never heard from Dean.  
"Well, thank you. Sam administered a local numbing agent, thought I fear it is started to wear off."  
Dean nodded and rubbing his hands together, and brought himself over to Cas's side, sitting down on the edge of the bed.  
"Dean are you alright?" Cas asked curiously, tilting his head.

Dean flushed bright red and looked down. "Goddammit, don't do that."  
Cas was taken aback. "I don't underst~"  
And before the words where even out of his mouth, Dean was upon his.  
Cas was ablaze, the ringing was back high in his ears but this time different, he felt like he was on fire, every atom alive.

Dean pressed him back into his pillows, he nervously wound his arms around Dean's neck as he had done before, but this time caressing the back of his neck, playing with the short cropping of hair there.  
Dean whined in his mouth, pressing back with fervor and timidly darting his tongue to touch Castiel's bottom lip.  
Cas jerked back, this was all so much and he couldn't stop his head spinning.  
"Shit, Cas did I hurt you?" Dean asked, cradling his face in his hands and searching his eyes.  
Cas shook his head, mouth gapping and watching Dean with wonder.  
"Why?"  
It was Dean's turn to look confused. "Why what Cas?"  
"Why are you doing this?"  
Dean pulled back in horror. "Shit, I'm sorry, I thought that you wanted~"  
Cas stopped him from pulling back, grabbing his hands. "I do." He growled, tightening his grip. "But I don't understand why me. With all that I have done?" He choked back his emotions, not wanting to seem weak. It was bad enough he had just fainted only a few hours before.  
"Cas." Dean whispered, carefully rubbing his thumb over Castiel's check bone, tracing the fuzz he felt there. "After everything, after you saw what I'd done..." He trailed off, closing his eyes, pained. "After everything you saw in Hell, you still thought I was something. It goes both ways."

Cas just nodded, hyper aware of Dean's hands still on him, heating his skin.  
"Dean~" Dean shook his head and brought himself close to Cas again, carefully lowering his lips to meet Cas's but this time softly, gently and intimately.  
This time, Cas let himself go. He closed his eyes, feeling Dean over him. He nearly whined in protest, feeling Dean withdraw too quickly.

"You're still hurt.' Dean explained. 'Can I...um, I dunno, stay?"  
He looked hopeful yet guarded and withdrawn. He was keeping his distance still, keeping his wall up even around him.  
But he had asked.

"I'd like that." Castiel answered.

Dean heaved a sigh, shaking out a crooked smile that lite his face that nearly stopped Cas in his tracks. How did he fall so hard, in so many ways?  
All for this human. Over and over again.

He was jerked from his thoughts by the feeling of Dean fingertips at the hem of Cas's shirt Charlie had put out for him. Cas closed his eyes, feeling Dean's timid touch on his stomach, brushing reverently against his tanned skin.  
Green eyes watched him intently as he struggled to catch his breath, chest heaving. Dean pulled back only to take his own shirt over his head, throwing it carelessly across the room and never taking his eyes off Cas. He looked uneasy, scared even.  
"This ok?" He asked,his voice almost breaking. Castiel had never seen him like this, and for all intents and purposes Dean had had more experience in these sort of matters than he would care to dwell on. Why was this any different?  
He found himself simply nodding, and carefully pulling his own shirt over his head, feeling his hair sticking this way and that.

"Son of a bitch." He heard Dean whisper, almost too quietly for him but it caused him to smile a bit.

Dean didn't reach for him but went to the other side of the bed, cautious of his leg still propped up on a couple pillows.  
They both laid back on the pillows, and Cas instinctively nestled himself into Dean, his arm a better substitute for a pillow.

Dean pulled the covers over them and turned off the bedside lamp.  
They both lay there for a moment, Castiel reeling with the overall feeling of exuberance and the overwhelming scent of Dean.

"We ok?" Dean whispered, as if someone would hear them.

"Yes Dean." Cas whispered back just as softly. "We're ok."

__________

Dean woke slowly from the warmth of Cas's bed. He felt completely at ease and had had the best sleep since...well since he could remember. This time upon awaking, he didn't flinch, his gut didn't clench in horror and his mind stayed blissfully silent.  
This time he just stayed. He watched. Dean peered through half closed eyes to see Cas still nestled next to him, breathing deeply in his unconsciousness, his eyelids fluttering in sleep.  
He made his mouth dry and his chest hurt. After all this time, fighting these feelings, the looks, the goddamn pain he felt whenever Cas wasn't around. He thought he'd be a little more freaked then he currently was; he hadn't felt like this about anyone since Lisa, and definitely not a genderless angel in a male vessel.

Cas's head had moved from Dean's arm to his chest, his arm slung over Dean's torso, fingers barely brushing Dean's waist.  
Dean's eyes traveled over Cas's bare back, the bruising finally receding and fading to a barely visible yellow color. He gingerly brushed his finger tips across the skin, as if to soothe the hurt away by touch as Castiel had done so many times for him.  
Cas leaned subconsciously into him, breathing deeply into Dean's chest, pushing himself closer.  
Struggling to look at the alarm clock, Dean was surprised to see it was almost noon. NOW that made him panic. That means everyone knew he wasn't awake, that Cas wasn't awake. Had he remembered to shut his door last night? What if Sam had knocked?

"Stop." Came a tired voice. Cas, his eyes still closed, but his hand coming up to stroke Deans cheek. It had an immediate calming effect on the older Winchester, who closed his eyes slowly and exhaled feeling Cas next to him and he just let it be.

"I take it you slept well feathers?" Dean asked, gazing at Castiel's rested face, the once harsh lines now looking softer and less pronounced. The sleep had done them both good.  
But Cas looked confused.  
"Dean, I do not have my wings at this time. I do not believe that "feathers" is an appropriate nick name in my current circumstance." He stated matter of fact, his face a mask of confusion.  
Dean just smiled and turned his eyes to the ceiling.  
"Don't need wings to be angel, Cas." He whispered. He didn't look over at his now wide awake bed buddy, he simply rolled out of bed. "And on that note worthy of a rom com, I need a shower."  
Dean tried not to smile when felt Cas's eyes on him while he sauntered off to the bathroom.

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Cas heard the shower sputter to life in the small bathroom, and he quickly jumped out of bed into a pair of ill fitting pajama pants.  
He knew he needed to act fast before Dean got out, thankfully for him one of Dean's luxuries he allowed himself was absurdly long showers.  
He winced as he put pressure on his leg, though it was mending quickly thanks to the quick and precise care from Sam and Charlie, it was still painful. But this was more important than his physical comfort. Opening the door and looking both ways, he gripped the side of the wall to help ease his passage down the hall.

He ended up in the file room, the door clicking and locking silently as he limped to the hidden door he knew held Crowley.  
"Who's there?" Crowley called, tense.  
Cas opened the door, sweating a bit at the effort and came face to face with the (former) King of Hell.  
"Ah Castiel. Been wondering how long it was going to take you.' Crowley smirked, dried blood stuck to his forehead. 'Heard about your little possession problem. Pity that."  
Cas rolled his eyes. "Yes you look positively put out.' he pulled up a chair, screeching it along the concrete floor. 'Now its my turn to talk."

Crowley nodded, smirking as he did so. "So talk angel."  
Castiel ignored the obvious taunt and continued.  
"I need to know a spell, a charm, or a mark that will shield me from demons and possessions."  
Crowley looked taken aback. "So you and Dean obviously haven't gotten to first base yet if you hadn't noticed the lovely bit of artwork on his chest, eh?" He winked, and that made Cas flush and look away, his shoulders tense.  
"I need something more affective, more binding. Something that cannot be stripped away."

Crowley looked at him thoughtfully, as if thinking hard.  
"I may have something a tad more...permanent." Castiel looked up, hopeful. "But it'll cost you."  
Castiel scowled, leaning closer to the trapped demon. "I am not letting you go demon."

Crowley rolled his eyes dramatically. "First off, breath mint.' Cas pulled back. 'Maybe thats why the no go with Deano?" again with that damn wink and grin. Crowley settled back into his chains, looking pleased with himself.  
"So if you don't want me to free you, then what could you want?"  
The demon king shrugged, "Just what any man wants, a hot shower, a warm meal and scotch. The good stuff, don't give me any of that pig piss those plaid wearing baboons guzzle down."  
It was Cas's turn to be taken aback with the demands.  
"Why do you not ask me to free you?" He questioned suspiciously.  
"Its a big bad world out there mate, plenty of monsters and that bitch out there have their eyes set on me. This,' he gestured to the his surrounding and chains. 'This is five stars compared to what she has planned."  
Castiel nodded in understanding.  
"If I get you what you require, will you tell me how to work the spell?"  
Crowley smiled, eyes gleaming. "You get me a shower and I'll work the bloody spell for you."  
Castiel stood up, moving the chair back to its original position.  
"We are in agreement then. I will have your demands fulfilled by the end of the day. I will require your end to be met at that time."  
Nodding, he could feel Crowley's eyes on him as he started to leave.  
"Sure you don't want to kiss on it?" Crowley taunted, laughing as Cas shut the door.  
But it was Cas who left with a smile on his face; finally something he could do to help.

SPNSPSPNSPNSPNS

Dean lingered into the kitchen, looking each way before opening the refrigerator, grabbing some eggs and milk.

"So, you slept late." Came a feminine voice behind him.  
Dean jumped, the eggs balancing precariously as he tried to regain his composure.  
"Um, yea.' He smiled nervously, setting down the milk and eggs before he dropped them outright. 'Gotta get the old beauty sleep."  
"Uh huh." Charlie smiled, winking at him.  
"Don't wink at me! This is not a winking situation!" He whispered, looking over her shoulder to make sure they didn't have an audience.  
"Dude, chill. Its no big." She laughed, pouring a cup of coffee, a smile still on her face.  
"Of course it isn't, I just slept in." Dean snapped.  
Charlie rolled her eyes and slapped him on the back, "Good talk." She sauntered off, sipping her coffee as she went.

"Fuck." He groaned, cracking the eggs a little too vigorously and ended up having to dig egg shells out of the bowl.  
He allowed his mind to go blank and he worked on the scrambling the eggs, trying not to think about the night before. Hopefully Cas likes cheese his scrambled eggs.

"Hello Dean."

Dean jumped again, but this time it was a pleasant surprise and brought a smile to his face.

"Morning feathers." He smiled, grabbing him a cup from the cabinet. "Coffee?"  
Castiel smiled and nodded, his face flushed a bit when Dean handed him the steaming beverage.  
"What are you making?" Cas asked curiously peering over his shoulder.  
"Eggs. Want some?" Dean asked, shoveling some eggs onto a two small plates for the both of them.  
Nodding enthusiastically, Cas hobbled over to the table, coffee cup jarring in his tightly wound hands.  
Dean set the breakfast in front of him, smiling as Cas quickly dug in.  
Dean sat across from him, trying not to be obvious while he stared at Cas being appreciative of the meal before him.

"This is very good." Cas said, mouth full of food, grinning the whole time.  
"Glad you like it."

Sam took that moment to walk past, sweating and tee drenched from his obvious work routine.  
"Oh, see you two finally decided to wake up." Sam exclaimed sarcastically, looking between them both with a smile.

"Slept in." Dean grumbled, shoveling his food in his mouth and looking down at his place.

Cas looked at him sharply, eyes squinted in confusion.  
"Dean~" Dean looked at him, cutting him off.

Sam looked at Dean, his grin falling as he glanced at Cas and back at Dean.

"Dean its fine~" Sam started but stopped at the look Dean shot at him. Raising his hands and stepping back he retreated back to the kitchen, retrieving a water bottle from the fridge.

"I'm finished,' Castiel stated, pushing his plate away from him and standing up. 'Thank you for the meal."  
Dean immediately realized his mistake, and stood quickly, chair screeching as he did so. "Cas, c'mon man~"  
But Castiel hobbled off without looking back at Dean, his coffee cup abandoned at the table and only half drank.

Dean ran his hand over his face.

He wasn't ready for all this yet.

He was still at the table when Charlie came in, her lips set in a thin line. He looked up, trying to pull his mouth into a smile but failing miserably. He felt like shit, the look that Cas had gave him when he lied to Sam felt like his heart had been ripped in two.  
Dammit, he never wanted to hurt the guy.

Charlie sat down next to him, placing a hand on his arm gently.  
"Hey, so...' She started, then stopped before noticing how he tensed. "Sam said you and Cas seemed a little, um tense?"

Dean shrugged, still not looking Charlie in the eye.  
"You need to talk to me?" Charlie asked, gently and not at all pushy. "This is kind of something I can relate to."

That made Dean's head snap up, with a scowl on his face. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Charlie pulled back, her face switching from concern to pissed in two seconds. "Now you listen here Dean Winchester, you can get off your macho horse for two seconds and pull your head out of your ass and let me talk!"

Dean opened his mouth, then shut it.

"We know. We all know Dean, so stop being such an idiot.' Charlie began, stopping him with one glance when he was looking to interrupt. 'We know that you sneak off to his room every night, that Cas freaks out when you aren't there. That there has been some long unresolved sexual tension between you and that angel for years now!"

Dean didn't say anything at first, he just stared at his cup, the beverage slowly getting cold.

"Charlie, I..." He trailed off. "I just can't."

Charlie raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "You can't? Then what have you been doing the last few weeks Dean? Playing house?"

Dean shrugged. "Its been. Its been nice Charlie." He looked up, trying not to notice how is eyes where glazing over a bit. "I mean, waking up next to someone who is. I mean, its Cas."

Charlie just nodded, urging him to continue.

"I can't do this."

Charlie shook her head. "Ya know Dean, I thought you where smarter than this." She stood up, pausing at the door jam. "Cas loves the shit out of you Dean. Make it right."

Shit.

SPNSPNSPNSPN

"Cas!" Dean called, poking his head every which way. "Cas, c'mon we need to talk."  
It was the last door on the right, the small storage room was where he found him. Knelt over a small sigil traced in chalk and a small bowl. And Crowley, who held Castiel's arm and chanting some shit.  
"Cas, what the hell is going on!" Dean snapped, immediately going for his gun, looking at Cas's shocked face as he realized Dean was in the room.  
"Dean, wait!' Cas exclaimed, raising his free hand that wasn't being held by the King of Hell. 'This needs to be done."  
"What needs to be done?" Shouted Dean, still not standing down, gun poised and ready aiming directly for Crowley's face.  
"Lets all just talk this out, eh?" Crowley started, dropping the knife he had been holding, allowing it to clatter to the floor.

"What are you talking about Cas?" Dean gritted though his teeth, eyes still locked on the demon standing far too close to Cas for his comfort.

"Dean its a spell." Cas was trying to explain, hand still held in the air, trying to hold Dean off.  
"He made me do it!" Crowley pleaded, ignoring the annoying look Castiel was currently glaring at him.

"Crowley, step away from Cas." Demanded Dean, waving his gun to the corner of the room.  
"Dean! Listen to me.' Reasoned Cas, looking exasperated. 'I need to finish this, its the only way to keep everyone safe. To make sure that I never get possessed again." He had a slight break in his voice as he tried to explain.

Pausing, Dean lowered the gun just a bit, just enough for Crowley let out a sigh of relief.

"Whats the spell?" He asked, making it quite clear that he was asking Crowley and not the fallen angel.

"Its an anti possession spell, keeps all the nasties away." Crowley explained, glancing between Cas and Dean.

"Yea last I checked you don't need any mojo to get a tattoo." Dean snarled, his trigger finger twitching.  
"The tattoo is not enough Dean, I need protection from angels and demons. This requires more protection than a few layers of epidermis can provide."

"No, not with Crowley, we need to look over everything first!"

Cas's face turned to fury. "Dean I am older than the cosmos and you cannot order me around. This is my body and my choice on how I need to protect it!" He looked at Crowley, and growled, "Finish it."

Crowley darted between Dean's gun and Castiel's determined look, and also the reminder of a hot shower.  
"Bullocks." Crowley cursed. "Need a new suit anyway." And with than, he drug the knife down Cas's arm allowing a steady flow of blood to drip into the bowl below.

"Cas!" Dean cried, going to run towards him only to find an invisible barrier set between him and the ritual going on before him.

"Sorry mate, can't stop it now." Crowley explained, his eyes still on the ex angel as he gritted his teeth.

Latin rolled off the demons tongue, louder as Cas began cringing, trying all he can to pull away from his grasp.  
Dean began banging on the protective barrier, panic coursing through him as he heard Cas groan.

"Sammy!" He called, pushing against the invisible shield again and again until his shoulder started to throb. It was like running himself into a wall.

"Now!" He heard Crowley say. He jerked his head up to see Cas take a small pendant out of the flaming dish where his blood had been dripping, and with shaking hands, press it into his forearm.

"Castiel!" A white light beamed from the room, causing Dean to stagger, pressing his face into the wall adjacent to him in a feeble attempt to block out the light.

"What the hell!" He heard Sam cry, who apparently decided to finally drop in.  
As soon as it came, the light faded and Dean turned to see Cas collapsed against the wall behind him, his face pale and drawn.  
Dean rushed pass Crowley who made himself scarce as soon as the older Winchester had realized the barrier was down.  
Cradling Cas's face in his hands, he pulled him closer, his forehead touching the other mans.  
"Cas, talk to me man."

Cas twitched, his hand still covering his forearm.  
"Burns." He gritted out, his eyes fluttering open.  
Dean turned his attention to the clenched hand that prevented him from seeing the damage. Carefully, he pried Cas's fingers away to reveal a silver dollar shaped sigil burned deep into Castiel's skin, raised and red.  
"Goddammit Cas what did you do?"  
"Had to protect you." He rasped, pulling his arm out of Dean's gentle grasp.  
"No harm will come to feathers. Spells done and I get my shower."  
Cas raised his head, teeth bared.  
"You don't get to call me that."  
Crowley smirked and backed off, clearly amused that he had managed to get a rise out of the man. "Deals a deal Castiel."  
Cas simply nodded to Dean, who looked less than thrilled.

"Dean." Sam's voice came from behind him, cold compress in hand and a worried look on his face as he took in the scene.  
"Thanks." Dean smiled at Sam, trying to apologize without saying it for his actions that morning, Sam must have caught on because he nodded, grabbed Crowley by the arm and lead him out of the room.

Bringing down the compress carefully on the welt, Dean looked up sympathetically as Cas hissed and tried feebly to pull away.  
"You gotta talk to me about this stuff man." He stated softly, thumb brushing the unmarred skin below the sigil.  
"Why,' scoffed Cas. 'So you can make my decisions for me, or treat me like I am an invalid?"  
He deserved that.  
"No Cas,' he whispered, finally looking him in the eye. 'Cause thats what two people do when they care about each other."

Cas's head raised, eyes wide.

"Dean~"  
He was promptly cut off, this time without harsh words but the feeling of Dean's clips muting his protests.  
Leaning in, Cas whimpered a bit as Dean pulled away, foreheads still touching. Close enough that Cas could smell Dean's aftershave.

"Don't do that again."

Cas nodded.

____________

Dean helped Cas stumble to his bedroom, the ex angel clutching to Dean's shirt and wincing as they made their way to the room. "You doing ok there man?" He asked, noting the thin layer of sweat coating Castiel's forehead.  
Cas grunted in reply, the cold compress pressed firmly to his arm.  
He deposited Cas gently onto the made bed, laying his arm out on a pillow before carefully removing the compress.

"So what the hell is this thing?"

Cas took a deep breath. "It wards me, not only from demons but angels. It is deeper than a tattoo so it cannot be removed."

"And why Crowley? And should I even ask what kind of deal you made with the King of Hell?" Dean asked, anger spilling unbidden into his voice as he sat next to Cas.

"Ex-King of Hell, Dean,' Cas reminded sarcastically. "He only wanted a shower and food. I can't blame him. And I needed this done." Cas looked down at the bed, fingering the comforter.  
"I could not allow myself to be vulnerable again. I put you in danger and I will not allow that to happen." His eyes blazed when they met Deans, the ferocity of his words striking Dean.

Dean just nodded, not really knowing what to say. He heard commotion in the kitchen, and the sound of knuckles meeting flesh.

"I'll uh, be right back." He smiled, trying not to worry the man.

Dean rushed out to the dining room to see Sam pressing Crowley into the wall, his knuckles bleeding, with what Dean assumed with Crowley's blood. Crowley was glaring at Sam despite the split lip and their obvious height differences.

"What did you do?" Roared Sam, his face inches away from the demons, shaking him a little as he spoke.

"Sam, Sam!" Dean called, pulling him away from Crowley. "Calm down a sec, I have some questions for him."

"What do you think I was doing?" Argued Sam incredulously.

"Just sit down killer, I got this," Dean turned his attention to Crowley, who, for his sake stayed against the wall. "Now, you're going to tell me what kind of mojo you hit Cas with. And I want the truth, or so help me I will string you up so fast Abaddon would be proud." He snarled.

Crowley smirked, raising a hand to wipe the dripping blood from his lip. "Calm down boys, I didn't hurt your pet,' he looked at Dean with a smile. "Or whatever he is to you. Did what he asked for, warded against the bad guys."

Dean laughed, running a hand down his face. "So what, out of the kindness of your cold, black heart?"

"Of course not," Crowley replied seriously. "That would be stupid, no I wanted something." He held up three fingers and ticked them off as he went. "Shower, meal, bed."

Dean looked at his suspiciously. "Thats it?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Despite your rose tinted glasses about this place squirrel, I don't know if you noticed that your dungeon isn't exactly 5 stars."

Sam raised himself from his seat, rubbing his sore knuckles. "Is there any permanent damage to Cas? Any side effects?"

Leering at Dean, Crowley replied, "Oh look at the calvary coming to Castiel's rescue. Its cute how you stand up for your big brother's boyfriend Sam, very commendable."

Dean opened his mouth and sputtered, "He's not my boyfriend!" Like an idiot.

Sam didn't say anything, in fact he stood there silent for a moment before rearing back and catching Crowley again, this time in the nose. The shorter man reeled back, clutching his face, eyes tearing up.

"He's important to my brother and he's my friend." Sam gritted out.

Dean was little taken aback by Sam's ferocity, but shook it off and motioned to Crowley to sit down.

"Sam, get him dinner. Give him a room for the night,' he paused at Sam's confused look. 'Deals a deal. Ward the shit out of it, I don't want him sneaking out."

Sam followed Dean into the kitchen, who was grabbing a bag full of ice to bring to Cas.

"Dude, are you sure about this? Leaving him out?" Sam whispered, gesturing the demon sitting at their dining room table.

"I know that if we welch on this deal who knows what he could do to Cas. We don't know the inner workings of this spell, and until we do, we play nice." Dean answered, grabbing a bottled water, before stopping and staring at it, picking the label. "And, uh thanks, I guess."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "For what?"

Dean still didn't look up. "He is,' he paused taking a breath. "Important to me."

Sam's eyes softened and his shoulders dropped as if a weight had been lifted off them. "Yea man, I know."

After a beat, Dean straighten up, gathering his supplies. "Ok enough with this chick flick bullshit. You got this, I'll deal with Cas."

Sam nodded and Dean could feel his eyes on him as he walked out.

Dean's steps felt lighter as he walked to his room, well Cas and his room he supposed. Cas hadn't been using his room in awhile. But whatever, it wasn't a big deal. Talking to Sam made it seem, bearable. The constant worry, the stress, all of it melted away. Sam wasn't angry or weirded out. He just knew.

Fuck if that didn't make Dean feel better.

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Cas felt like he was on fire, and not the same kind of fire like when Dean was nearby, this was actual painful burning sensation that pulsed through him.  
Dean walked in, ice in hand and a soft smile.

"I am regretting my decision,' he gritted through clenched teeth, hand pressed down tight against the brand.  
Dean chuckled a bit, but sat down and put his own hand over Cas's, stroking the back of it gently. "Yea I'll bet,' he whispered. "Alright lemme see."

Cas considering objecting, but the look in Dean's eyes told him he had better not. With a sigh he let his hand fall to his lap, the cool air of the bunker hitting the skin. Dean whistled at the intricate markings, holding Cas's arm steady as he placed a bag of ice over it.

Cas winced, almost pulling away but Dean put his hands on his face, forcing him to meet his gaze.

"Its gonna be ok, it look like its already starting heal," Dean comforted. "Whatever you used was supposed to heal quick it looks like. Makes sense. Warding starting immediately."

Cas nodded, relieved. He was new to this mortality thing, and didn't wish to lose a limb over a rash decision.

"Hey," Dean murmured, taking his fingertips and brushing Cas's tousled hair back from his forehead. "I'm not mad. I was just worried."

Relief flooded through Cas, and he took a deep breath, nodding his gratitude. Dean's eyes softened, and very carefully he moved from Cas's side to straddle his legs, mindful of his wounds.

"Dean?" Breathed Cas, looking up at Dean in confusion.

"Just breath Cas," He whispered, leaning closer. "I gotcha."

And with that, he brought his mouth to his, gently and reverently.  
Dean caught every moan and every whimper, driving his hands through Cas's tangled hair reducing the smaller man to a trembling mess.

Cas had never been handled this carefully, this gently. He couldn't understand why someone could feel this way for him, and care so much.  
Dean wasn't even trying to go farther, he wasn't pushing him, but instead showing him how much he cared and pouring every single ounce of emotion through each touch, each kiss. Cas was on the verge of an overload, he could feel himself start to tremble, start to lose it.

"Dean." He whispered again, wrecked, his voice cracking.

"Yea, Cas I know."

Dean ground himself to meet Cas, who's eyes flew open at the sensation and pulled Dean closer to him.

"Cas, can um- can we?"

"Please." Cas ground out, pulling Dean closer.

Dean pulled to him, pushing Cas's button up down his shoulders, breaking away from their kiss only to carefully pull the sleeve away from Castiel's wounded arm.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Dean asked, gesturing to the bandaged arm.

Cas nodded, face flushed. "It helps."  
Dean held his breath as Cas timidly went for his buttons on his shirt, slowly undoing each one, catching Dean's gaze each time as if assuring himself that this was ok, that this was happening.

Shrugging the offending article of clothing off the rest of the way, he brought their chests together, each gasping as skin touched skin.  
"This isn't just anything." Dean blurted out.  
Cas looked at him, head cocked like he did whenever he didn't understand something.

"I mean, us. Whats happening," Dean paused, swallowing. "It means something to me. Just wanted you to know that."  
It must have clicked for Cas because his eye widened and he allowed a crooked smile to take over his face before nodding his understanding.

As they moved together, Cas ground out a loud moan, which caused Dean to cover his mouth over Cas's, drowning it out.

"Fuck, feathers keep it down," He chuckled good naturally. Cas blushed but nodded.

Dean stopped, grabbing for something underneath the nightstand to Castiel's puzzlement. Dean quickly opened his new phone that Sam had insisted on getting them.

"What are you doing?" Cas asked, annoyed at the interruption.

"Giving us some privacy," Dean muttered. "Sam insisted on this stupid thing, but now it is definitely coming in handy."

Cas raised an eyebrow. "Can we not speak of your brother during our intimate encounter?"

"Only if you stop calling them intimate encounters." Dean shot back, smiling as he opened his playlist and cranked the volume as loud as the tiny device could handle.

Dean hoped for everyone in the bunkers sake, that the music he turned on would drown out any evidence of what they where doing.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN*

He was wrong.

It was morning when they finally decided to emerge from their bedroom, they had skipped dinner all together. Sam had almost went back to check on them, but Charlie grabbed his arm and steering him away from the room saying something along the lines of, "God the books where accurate."  
Sam had no idea what she meant.

Dean emerged first, a stupid grin plastered on his face and a rumpled tee shirt that had looked like it had seen better days.  
Cas followed behind, a new bandage around his lower arm and his hair defying every law of gravity imaginable.

Charlie just grinned at Dean who rolled his eyes at her as he disappeared into the kitchen, only to come out with two cups of coffee, one that he handed to Cas who took it gratefully.

"So, long night?" Charlie quipped, not hiding her smile as she took another bite of eggs.

"Shut up Charlie." Dean shot back, but a small smile overtook his face as he tried to hide it, taking a sip of his beverage.

"What? Did something happen?" Sam asked, immediately looking alarmed.

Crowley clucked his tongue, and shaking his head. "Oh moose, and we thought you where the brains of the operation."

"Guys." Dean warned, his eyes flickering dangerously to Crowley, who simply winked back at him.

"Well," Cas said, pushing back from the table. "This is awkward."

"How's your arm Cas?" Charlie offered, sympathetically changing the conversation.

Cas looked gratefully at the redhead. "Much better, thank you Charlie. It is healing rapidly."

Sam cleared his throat, getting Dean's attention. "So, you want to get Crowley back in lock down?"

Crowley looked up, peeved.

Dean took a moment, looked back from Crowley and then to Sam.

"Nah, he hasn't tried to run. Call it parole shit head, you fuck up its back in the dungeon."

Crowley narrowed his eyes. "Whats the catch?"

Dean shrugged, "No catch. As long as nothing goes wrong with that little spell you hit Cas with, you may have something good going. For now."

Crowley leaned back, folding his arms. "Well it looks like someone got some kinks worked out."

Dean glared at him, mouth full of toast. "I can change my mind at anytime dickwad."

Crowley raised his hands and went back to his tea.

Sam still looked confused as to what was going on.

It wasn't until a few moments of silence that he jerked his head up.

"Oh, what?' He moaned, looking between Cas and Dean, who looked back completely confused. "Dude." He got up taking his plate with him, shaking his head.

Dean grinned and shrugged.

"Light bulb." Charlie quipped.

___________________

It was late. Cas was curled around him, snoring softly and leaning into Dean's touch as he brushed his fingers up and down his side. Dean was still half awake, just watching the other man as he slept. He tried not to do that during the daytime, it was just creepy and reminiscent of when Cas used to do so to him. He kept the puppy eyes for when they where alone, wrapped up in each other and Dean could do so without the constant feeling they where being watched.

Of course this peaceful moment of reflection was cut off by Sam slamming into their room with complete disregard.

"Holy shit Sam!" Dean yelled, pulling the blanket up hiring over him and Cas, who sat up immediately, blinking confused. "Ever heard of knocking asshole?"

Sam was panting, "Dude, no time, you have to come out here," they sat there. "Now Dean!" He snapped running out of their room and down the hall.

It had just hit Dean that Sam was carrying his gun.

"Shit," he murmured, but nothing could get into the bunker right? It was fortified to the teeth.

"Dean? What is happened?" Cas inquired still confused, sleep still evident in his eyes.

Dean unwound himself from the tangled bed sheets, throwing some clothes they had only just a few hours before discarded onto the floor.

"Get dressed. Somethings wrong."

SPNSPNSPNSPN

They all met up in the library, Kevin and Charlie both sat on open laptops, Kevin looked stressed and Charlie was chewing her nails.

"Whats the emergency?" Demanded Dean, setting his gun onto the table.

Charlie turned her screen around wordless, and Dean nearly stumbled back at the sight.

"These are a live feed from the security cameras that are around the bunker." Kevin explained nervously.

It was still completely dark out, the night vision kicking on the cameras, showing dozens, if not close to 100 glowing eyes in the dark.

"Angels." Cas confirmed, his voice rough and his brow furrowed.

"Theres more." Quipped Charlie, moving the slider on the side of the laptop introducing audio to the feedback.

"Give us Castiel and no one will be harmed. We will stay out here, starve you out until you comply." Came a deep male voice, resonating from the tall blonde vessel that seemed to have rallied the group.

"Turn it off," snapped Dean turning around to face Cas, who had gone pasty white and was breathing erratically. "Cas-"

"Don't Dean," Cas cut him off, his eyes frantically searching Deans. "I will get ready to surrender myself."

Sam's head whipped up. "Cas, don't be ridiculous, we'll figure this out!"

Cas just shook his head. "You do not understand, there are hundreds of angels out there. What do you think they will do when they get tired of waiting? Angry? There is a town only a few miles from here Sam. Do you really think they will just wait for us?"

Dean's jaw clenched, his stomach sinking. Not now. Not now that he had finally gotten his head out of his ass, not after all they have been through.

"Dammit Cas I am not letting you do this!" Exclaimed Dean, stepping closer to him, grabbing his shoulder. Cas was still shuddering for breath.

Cas glared at him, his eyes narrowing. "You are not letting me do anything Dean Winchester. I am making this decision," he growled, his voice low and grating, demanding respect.

"Um, guys." Kevin whispered.

"You don't get to just jump into shit like this anymore Cas, I thought we talked about this!" Dean countered, getting angrier by the moment.

"You mean you screamed at me and we had an argument." Cas gritted out.

"Damn straight I yelled at you, and I am going to until I get it through your thick-"

"GUYS!" Yelled Kevin, slamming his hands on the table. "Somethings happening outside."

Dean leaned down again, squinting at the computer screen then cursing softly under his breath.

"Abaddon?"

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Abaddon strode up to the Men of Letter not so hidden bunker, with purpose and an army of demons trailing behind her.

She was met with a wall of fallen angels, all standing at attention, sensing her demonic presence immediately.

"You there," Abaddon called, pointing to a tall angel near the center. "Take me to your leader." She smirked.

The angels had parted, letting her pass with ease, an order she was sure was ringing through their little mind link they had.

Glares, even growls as she passed just made her smile wider.

"Bartholomew I presume?" Abaddon purred, running her gaze up his body with appreciation.

"What do you want abomination?" Bartholomew growled back, looking at her with disgust, turning his attention back to the bunker door.

"That is Ms. Abomination to you sweet checks, listen I am here the same reason you are."

"Castiel is ours. You may leave now."

Abaddon tsked, circling the fallen angel, shaking her head.

"Oh I don't want Castiel,' She corrected. "And I think we could be of mutual assistance to each other. Been a long time since we had a heaven/hell mixer don't you think?"

"How could you ever be of assistance to me demon?" He spat the last part with distain.

Abaddon circled back to him, face close to his, eyes blazing. "Knight, get it right, angelface." She smiled, leaning back. "Now about you and I talk business. All cut off from Heaven, new management in Hell. I think we could come up with something mutually beneficial."

Bartholomew seemed to roll this around for a moment before grinning.

"I'm listening."

SPNSPNSPNSPN

"Kevin why can't we hear anything?" Questioned Sam, turning the volume up on the laptop, but getting nothing but static.

"I don't know," Kevin answered, obviously just as confused as they where. "It looks like something is interfering with the loop."

"Angels." Cas informed matter-of-factly. "They do not want us to hear what they are speaking of."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yea no shit Sherlock. Got anything useful to add?"

Cas looked hurt. "Dean, I do not know what I am supposed to do. You will not allow me to reveal myself."

"Damn straight I won't, so just sit down and gimme a second to think."

"Dean-" Sam started, his voice giving off warning.

"Not now Sam." Dean growled, giving his brother a look that said he better just stop now.

"What about Crowley?" Inquired Charlie, breaking the tense silence. "I mean, we do have the ex King of Hell just sitting in the basement, he helped Cas, maybe we could get some advice."

Sam nodded, "Not a bad plan. Dean,' He grabbed his older brother's shoulder. "Why don't you help me bring him up here."

"Since when do you need help with Crowley?"

Sam just glared at him.

"Ugh fine whatever," He gave Cas a final look. "Stay here."

Sam all but pulled him out of the room, setting a quick pace down the hall.

"Dude what the hell?" Demanded Dean, catching up with him.

"You can't keep doing this Dean. You can't keep treating Cas like an idiot." Sam seethed, stopping at the dungeon doors.

"What, you think he should go out there? Offering himself up for slaughter?" Dean asked, aghast.

"No, Dean of course not. But you have to think here, we can stay here forever, eventually they will start killing people." Sam reasoned, putting his hand on Dean's shoulder, who immediately tensed. "We need to think of a plan, and don't think I don't want Cas here. You seem to forget he is my friend too."

"You know we are more than friends at this point Sammy." Dean gritted out, saying it out loud to his younger brother for the first time.

Sam nodded, brows furrowed. "I know, Dean." He looked down at the floor. "Fuck, I know. But we may need his help."

Dean felt like the floor was falling out from under him, Sam was right, but shit if he was going to make this easy. He could figure something out, without putting that feather brain in harms way.

"Lets just grab Crowley," shrugging off Sam's hand he wretched open the dungeon door to reveal a smirking Crowley.

"Hello boys," he smiled. "What, not allowing the welcoming party in?"

Dean looked at Sam. "How do you know about that? Do you know who is out there?"

Crowley smiled. "Oh just Abaddon and every demon in a 200 mile radius. Plus I sense some celestial do gooders out there with blood on their mind." He looked between them both. "Getting close?"

"Grab him." Ordered Dean, Sam nodding and wrenching the demon from his lock down.

"Oh useful now am I?"

SPNSPSNSPNSPN

They emerged this time with Crowley in tow, hands still shackled together, looking positively thrilled with the fact that he had the upper hand.

Sam sat him down hard, turning the computer screen towards him, pointing to Abaddon and the angel.

"What are they saying?"

Crowley rolled his eyes, "I am not a walkie talkie mate, can't just tune into everything. But I can tell you what Abaddon is up to. Been listening in, ya see I still have a few supporters in her little elite group there."

"Spit it out then." Raged Dean, slamming his hands on the table getting the demons attention. "Why do they want Cas?"

"Oh, I thought that was obvious," Crowley said, amused. He turned to Cas. "The angels want to rip out your entrails and melt out your eyeballs. A little violent for beings of celestial intent, eh mate?"

Cas bowed his head, fists clenching.

Crowley spoke to Dean directly, looking him up and down. "But its not Castiel that Abaddon wants."

Sam and Dean both shot each other puzzling looks.

"Then who do they want?" Sam asked, considerably perplexed.

"They want big brother." Crowley replied, looking over at Dean. "He was all good to go for Michael's vessel if you can remember. Vessels like that don't come along often."

"So what?" Sputtered Dean. "Abaddon wants me as a vessel?"

"Oh no, you misunderstand. They both want you as a vessel."

Dean just stood there, brows furrowed.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Can you imagine the power of a demon and an angel possessing the same vessel? Especially one as old as Abaddon?"

"That isn't possible." Growled Castiel, finally speaking up. "No angel would agree to such a thing. It is a blasphemy."

Crowley shrugged. "Heaven's out of commission last I checked. No god, no devil. Abaddon wants an all power deity, and the angels need a leader. What else could be better?"

Everyone sat in a stunned silence. Dean collapsed into a chair, completely overwhelmed.

"Dean-" Started Sam, only to be silenced when Dean raised his hand.

"Wouldn't that kill the vessel?" Kevin asked quietly. "I've never seen anything about cohabitation in a single vessel before."

Crowley shrugged. "Don't think its been done before. But who better to try it on then the Righteous Man?" He spat the last part out, looking at Dean with a twinkle in his eye.

"Um, guys?" Charlie asked, grabbing a book from her bag suddenly. Dean and Sam both recognized it instantly as one of Chuck's books. "I think I have an idea."

____________

Everyone turned to look at Charlie expectantly as she held up one of Carver Edlund's books.

"Oh dammit, not those again..." Dean started, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Dean, listen. In this one, Point of No Return, Castiel uses an angel banishing sigil that he carved on himself to trick the angel right?"

Dean nodded, still not seeing where she was going with this.

"Listen, if it worked then it should work now. But this time there is nowhere for the angels to banished to right?"

It was Cas's turn to nod, his eyes darting this way and that as he started putting together the pieces.

"But even if that managed to work, Dean would still have a Knight of Hell possessing him. An angel sigil would do nothing to her."

"Right, BUT what about that nifty spell Crowley used on you? What would that do if the ritual was preformed while he was possessed?" This time she turned to Crowley, who looked intrigued.

"I like this girl, she gives Moose a run for his money in the brains department," he grinned. "And to answer your question it would tear the demon in two, completely wiping the bastard from existence."

"But Abaddon is smart, you really think she'd fall for this?" Sam question, his brow furrowed.

"The spell I used on feather brain over there hasn't been used in thousands of years. I doubt she will be expecting you shit heads to know anything that powerful." He sneered, obviously proud of himself.

Dean shot him a scathing look. "But once I am possessed how am I going to be able to perform a ritual and hold off a demons and angels?"

"Thats where we come in."

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean was sweating, he was nervous and was having a hard time hiding it at this point. His stomach stung and his tee stuck to his new body modification. They couldn't use his chest like Cas had done, he knew that Abaddon would need access to his anti possession tattoo and once glimpse of the inflamed flesh and they'd be done for.

Sam did it for him, he kept a neutral face the whole time, paying meticulous attention to the small runes around the edges, having to make sure the sigil was fool proof.  
Dean had grunted and winced the entire way through, but Cas had been sitting next to him holding his hand. And Dean let him, in full view of everyone, his grip was tight and he was surprised that Cas still had full functioning fingers after the experience.

"Dean are you sure?" Cas kept pleaded as Dean had braced himself as a black tee shirt was pulled down and settled against his skin.

"Didn't just go through all that to stop now feathers." He smiled, taking a trembling hand and brushing Cas's cheek fondly.

Charlie jogged up to him, the moment gone.

"Here, just in case." She handed with a small pen knife with a barely noticeable devils trap carved into the blade. "Its made with an angel blade."

"Its kinda small don't you think?"

Charlie rolled her eyes, "Yes because you can just waltz out there with a machete. Its just something to help if things get hairy."

Dean nodded, placing the small blade in his jeans pocket. "Thanks Charlie." He smiled at her, she stared back her eyes wide and her face conveying how nervous she really was.

"Just, be careful ya know?"

"I know, Charlie."

With that, Kevin stumbled into the room, his face pale.

"Guys, I think we should do this now. The natives are getting restless." He stammered, holding up the laptop, showing the demons gathering wood and making torches.

"They are going to try to burn the damn place down." Muttered Dean incredulously.

"Sam! Now!" Sam came quickly to the sound of Dean's voice, Crowley in tow carrying an arm full of supplies needed.

Leading the way to the door, Dean stopped just short of the handle and turned to the group of people behind him.

"Sam-" He started but was cut off by a tight hug from his younger brother, effectively silencing what he thought maybe he last goodbye.

"I know Dean." Dean nodded into his shoulder, clapping him on the back.

Charlie barreled in for a hug, Dean winced a little as she pressed against his stomach but did not pull away.

Kevin just nodded his head, he wasn't good with goodbyes, not anymore.

That left Cas.

He stopped, his eyes softening as they fell on the fallen angel, his old tee shirt drooping a bit around the neck, his dark hair still out of sorts.

"Feathers I-' Dean stopped and looked back to the other people around, him family. "Oh fuck it." He exclaimed, grabbing the shorter man and pressing himself against him, Cas gasping a bit as their lips met in a desperate display of intimacy and love.

Dean didn't feel accusing glares from those behind him, no one stopped them and no one made jokes. Fuck it just felt ok, and Dean held on to that feeling, running his fingers against the back of Cas's neck, tightening his hold as he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead and against his.

"Dammit feathers." He choked, his voice deeper than usual, wrecked with emotion. Cas tightened his grip on Dean's shoulders.

"I will be here when you return."

Dean smiled, choking out a small laugh and nodded, his eyes pinched shut against the onslaught of impending tears.

He sniffed, pressing a short kiss to Castiel's forehead and turned to the rest of the group.

"Alright lets do this."

But Dean stopped just shy of the door knob, turning to Crowley who nodded.  
No one had time to interpret the exchange because Dean took that moment to fling open the door to the bunker and step out, alone into the cool night, light from the various torches the only thing lighting his way.

His breath caught as he surveyed the many bodies that made it impossible to see the forest that laid behind them.

"Dean Winchester, a pleasure." Bartholomew crooned, stepping forward. "I assume you are here to offer yourself to us?"

"You take me, you leave Cas and my family alone." Dean demanded, his voice steady as he locked eyes with the ringleader of the angels.

Bartholomew grinned; they did not know that Dean had heard everything he and Abaddon had discussed, the bargain that had been struck between the warring factions.

"Theres the old Winchester spirit." Teased Abaddon, crossing her arms and staring at Dean like a prize she had just won.

Stiffening and clenching his jaw as Abaddon stepped forward, running her manicured nails over his shoulders as she circled him like prey.  
She ran her arms down his chest, grinning as she pulled his shirt down to his reveal his anti possession tattoo.

"What do you want?" He gritted out, knowing full well what was about to happen.

"I told you before Deano. You are a perfect vessel," she leaned in closer, her breath ghosting his ear. "You and I are going to accomplish great things together."

Dean did not expect the blinding pain and she had quickly drew a small knife and dug it deep into his chest, dragging it across his only defense against the demons.

Screaming despite himself, he fell to his knees, his eyes closed as he felt the warm trickling of blood running down his chest and shirt.

"There we go, much better." She turned to Bartholomew. "Lets get this show on the road Barty."

Bartholomew nodded, but first turned to his followers. "If the demon betrays me, kill her."

Abaddon grinned and ran her fingers through Dean's short cropped hair before wrenching his head back.

"Tell old Barty over there he is more than welcome to come in." She purred.

"Go to hell." He gritted out, his neck pulled back and making it hard to breath.

"I can, and I can take your whole little rag tag band of misfit toys along with me. I am sure your brother would just love to get back down there, of course," she paused, smiling. "You won't have a guardian angel to rip your asses back out now will you?"

"Leave them alone." He gasped, his eyes tightening at the thought.

"Then say the magic words!" She roared, tightening her grip and using her free hand to snake around his neck.

It was then that Dean opened his eyes, a smile returning to his face at Abaddon's confused one.

"Bitch." He ground out, sliding his left hand through the mess covering his chest and lifting his shirt. He could hear the chorus of screams and saw Bartholomew start to leap at him, but not soon enough as Dean slapped his bloody hand down on the deep, intricate markings on his stomach. He shut his eyes against the onslaught of light, marking the angel's leave. He heard the roar of demons that sought cover from the brilliance, leaping behind trees or cowering in the ditch. Abaddon screamed in fury, keeping her hands tight around Dean's throat as she shielded herself behind him.

It was over in a matter of moments, but Dean's ears where ringing and his eyes where not adjusting, he would have tumbled over had Abaddon not been using him as a human shield.

Dean groaned as she came around, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I guess I will just get you all to myself won't I?" She leered, blood dripping from her ears, the result of the celestial screams.

It happened fast, he saw Abaddon part her red lips and black smoke billowed out, pushing itself down Dean's throat, burning like brimstone into him.

"NOW!" He choked as he felt her take over.

The door to bunker burst open, Sam brandishing his knife with Charlie behind him using Dean's gun. Cas broke the line, the angel blade held tightly in his hands.

"Dean?" He asked hopefully.

"Oh hey there feathers," Came Dean's voice. Too calm. "Thats what lover boy calls you right?"

Dean grinned, turning to the group and laughing as his eyes flicked to black.

_______________

Cas stood frozen in horror as Dean- or Abaddon in this case crack her neck, hands running along Dean's body, all the while smiling.  
"Oh yes, this will do nicely," She crooned from Dean's mouth.  
Cas felt Sam behind, he knew Sam gripped the sigil stamp in his right hand, but he could feel him faltering as he looked as his possessed older brother.

Crowley had assured them that he had charmed the brand to stay hot no matter how long it took to reach Dean, or if they reached him at all.

Cas quickly shook his head, banishing those thoughts as the demon inside Dean racked his eyes up and down Cas smiling.

"Oh Castiel," Abaddon clucked, shaking her and watching him like a predator would its prey. "The things running around in Dean's mind when he looks at you..." She smiled, pacing a bit; slowly and unbothered by the group crowding the entrance to the Bunker.

"Leave him Abaddon," Castiel snarled, his hand gripping the angel blade tightly, his knuckles turning white as the pressure. "Your armies are all but diminished and the angels have been banished. You are alone in this conquest."

Abaddon shrugged, "I suppose you're right, but who's to say that I need any of those fools? This is Michael's vessel, can't get any better than that. Not even Sammy over their has the oomph that ole' Deano has," She acknowledged Sam's presence with a jerk of her head, winking as she did so. Cas put a hand on Sam's chest, stopping him from attacking the demon before the time was right. Crowley should be nearly done with the spell. Just had to stall her a bit longer.

The weight of the medallion weighted heavily in his palm, tightening his grip around it, hoping that Crowley wasn't lying when he said it would burn hot when the spell was ready.

"Now let me into the Bunker," Abaddon growled, running Dean's fingers through the mess on his chest that once housed his anti possession tattoo.

"We can't let you do that," Sam shook his head, his face full of trepidation.  
Once again, Abaddon shrugged Dean's shoulders. "I guess I could just take off with this lovely vessel. Slaughter a few innocents, I already have Hell, why not Heaven too? Doesn't seem like anyone's home upstairs, am I right Castiel?"

"Metatron is still present in Heaven," Castiel reminded her, his eyes drifted upwards momentarily.  
Abaddon laughed and though it came from Dean's body it did not sound like his, it was haughty and deeper than normal;everything about his body language was so unlike him. It made the core of Castiel want to scream.

"That paper pusher is no match for me, I'm not worried about a secretary in a sweater vest," Abaddon cried in mirth.  
It was then, Cas felt the amulet warm and tingle in his hand.

"Sam now!" He cried, moving out of the way as Sam pulled a gun out of his back pocket, aligning the aim to Dean's leg and fired.  
Cas winced at the sound, but stopped mid step towards Dean when he saw the bullet stop mid air, still spinning in place.  
Dean had his hand out stretched, manipulating the bullet and tossing it at Sam's feet.

"I told you Sam, Dean is a very special vessel,"  
By now, the medallion was burning hot in Castiel's palm, but he gritted his teeth against the pain and took a step forward. He stopped, hearing chanting behind him, Crowley standing in the door way reciting from the ancient parchment he held in his hands.

"What are you doing?" Shrieked Abaddon, vein bulging in Dean's forehead.  
Before Cas could answer, he heard a shot ring out and spun around in surprise to see a pale Charlie holding a small, smoking pistol in her hand. And this time, Dean's leg buckled, the demon holding him hostage crying out at she felt her vessel damaged.

"Cas now!" She cried before Abaddon flicked a wrist, successfully throwing Charlie against a tree behind, her head smacking painfully against the thick oak.  
"You really think a bullet can stop me?!" Dean's voice screamed, Dean's leg pouring blood from the small entry wound.

"No," Sam replied through gritted teeth. "But this might."  
Crowley finished the incantation as Abaddon through Dean's arms up, calling a gale force of wind from the North and pushing them back as debris rained around them, Charlie still unconscious.  
Cas couldn't hold the pendant any longer, he could smell his skin cooking beneath his tightly wound fingers.

"Sam!" He cried, his fingers glancing to his fingers and Sam nodded, moving forward, the demon blade held in a shaking hand.

He could tell, as confident Abaddon was, she had not counted on the angels being dismissed, or her forces demolished. She was unstable and holding onto the one pawn she had left-Dean.

Sam pushed through the wind Dean's fingers where manipulating, he winced as a wayward branch cut into his face leaving behind a thin red line.

"I will kill him!" She screamed, the voice haggard and strained as Abaddon barely held onto her prize possession, the bullet hole and Cas only assumed Dean's constant fighting was finally breaking the Knight of Hell down. And whatever the spell Crowley had used was breaking her resolve, they only needed to get close enough...  
It was Kevin who stepped up, gun drawn and shooting off just too far to the right, the bullet whizzing past Dean, but Abaddon looked at him with a furious gaze and while he raised his arm to throw him back Sam took this time to finally reach Dean, his blade raised.

Cas wrapped the medallion in the edge of his shirt, trying to block some of the heat coming off the object but it did little good.

Abaddon flicked her wrist, the gun flying from Kevin's hand and simultaneously grabbing hold of Sam's neck, raising his tall form a few inches from the ground.

The wind stopped but Sam was now in Abaddon's grasp and Dean's hand wrapped around his neck.

"Dean stop," Castiel heard Sam gasp, fingers clawing at the hand that was slowly choking the life out him. "Dean, fight her."

Crowley yelled behind him, "Now Cas, you have to do it now!"  
Cas clenched his jaw and surged forward, coming up behind the possessed man and grabbing the hair on Dean's head while swiftly kicking his injured leg and dropping him.

"Sam!" He yelled, tossing the pendant to the gasping man who caught it mid air. Cas could fell Abaddon tightening Dean's muscles, about to pull herself up. Cas spotted the fallen demon blade at Sam's feet; he used his free hand and grasp the bone hilt before whispering, "I am sorry Dean," before taking the blade and slicing along his arm, just enough to shock Abaddon.

Abaddon screamed at the blade bit into her skin and Sam seized the opportunity while Castiel wrapped his arms around the older brother's chest, pulling him towards him.

The pendant ran through the fresh wound at Dean's chest as Sam pressed it hard into the flesh, the demon into Dean seizing and screaming at the contact. Cas struggled to hold the man, squeezing his eyes shut against the Abaddon's screams. Crowley walked in front of them, eyes narrowed and a smile on his face, "Tootles bitch," he grinned as Abaddon screamed on last time and Dean's body arch off the ground as lightening pulsed underneath his skin. Sam stood over him, his face scrunched in fear as he kept the medallion pressed over where his anti possession tattoo had been only minutes before.

Abaddon's voice mingled with Deans for half a moment, before it died away leaving Dean limp in Cas's arms, his face drawn as he opened his eyes in the mid day light.

"Cas?" He gasped, his hand reaching to the arms that where secured around him.  
"I'm here," Cas whispered, his hold loosening as he was sure Abaddon was gone from them.  
Sam sighed in relief, pulling the medallion away from Dean's chest, who hissed as the cooling metal was pulled from the brand.

"My leg-" He gasped, Dean's voice hoarse.

"Help me get him up Cas," Sam muttered, carefully grabbing Dean's arm underneath the long, jagged cut Castiel had to inflict.

"Did I hurt anyone?" Dean asked, his head lolling a bit to the side as they lifted him, his injured leg still limp.  
Sam shot a glance back towards the bunker where Kevin was helping Charlie inside, her hand was pressed to her red head, but she seemed no worse for wear.

"No, no you did great Dean," Sam soothed, taking small steps to towards the Bunker.  
"Cas, you okay?" He gritted out, his tired eyes falling on the man to his right, who's arm was currently flung over Cas's shoulder.  
"I am fine Dean,' He murmured back, still surprised that after everything he was only concerned with the people around him. "Lets get you home."

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean was propped up on the library's couch, leg raised and wrapped in bandages, his pants discarded on the floor.  
"This fucking burns," he complained, touching the raised skin on his chest gingerly, wincing as his fingertips made contact.  
Cas swatted his hand away, "Don't touch it," He commanded, replacing Dean's fingers with his own, coating the wound liberally with ointment and trying not to smile a bit when Dean grabbed his other hand.  
Sam handed Castiel a pair of scissors which he used to cut away the ruined, blood stained shirt and gingerly pulled it away to reveal his stomach.

"This will scar," Cas informed remorsefully, hands ghosting over the sigil carved into his flesh.  
"Scars are sexy," Dean winked at Cas and Sam rolled his eyes and passed the bandages to the fallen angel.  
"I'm going to go check on Charlie,' Sam quipped, "You got him Cas?"  
Cas nodded, his eyes never leaving the task at hand.  
Sam squeezed Dean's shoulder as he left, closing the door behind him.  
Cas's hand was shaking as he tapped off the bandages, something Dean must have picked up on quickly because he grabbed his hand midair, the last bit of tape sealing the wound.

"What's wrong Cas?" He whispered, his voice still rough and his eyes bright but it was Dean. All Dean.  
"I almost lost you," Cas whispered, his eyes down cast and his other hand clenched tight into a fist.  
"I'm right here," Dean reminded him gently, squeezing his hand gently. "Cas look at me man," he grasped Cas's chin, raising his eyes to him.

Cas could barely look at Dean without remembering the look he gave him as Abaddon took over, or the fact it was his hand that held the knife that cut into his skin.  
Overwhelmed with emotion he did the only thing he thought to do in an instant like this- he surged forward, catching Dean off guard and pressing him back into the couch as his lips caressed the other man's with an urgency he could barely explain.

"Please, don't make me do that ever again," He whispered, his forward pressed into Dean's their eyes holding a stare.

"Promise," Dean unwrapped his hand from Cas's and brought it around to brush his cheek before finding its place at the back of Castiel's neck. He pulled him in again quickly, sighing as they pulled away.  
"But we won right?"

Cas smiled, a genuine and wide smile and his heart felt lighter, lighter than it had since before he fell.  
"Yes Dean, we won."

Dean closed his eyes and his head fell to rest on the arm rest of the worn couch and the lines that had seemed etched into his stoic face seemed to smooth as a sigh of relief escaped his lips.

"And you're staying?" Dean asked, gaze catching his, his eyes wide as he realized it was now safe for Castiel to leave not only the Bunker, but Dean. "I mean, I know you probably have things to do, and now you aren't stuck her-"

Cas shook his head, his furrowed. "Dean, don't understand? All I have ever wanted was to keep you safe and to watch over you."

Dean looked incredulously at him, a grin threatening to break free.

"So you'll stay with me?"

Cas ducked his head, fingers grasping Dean's.

"Yes, I'll stay."

______________

After Abaddon had been vanquished and a handful of self righteous angels had been blown back to where ever they go now, life was calm. Dean didn't know how long that would last, but right now he reveled in it. There was no hiding what Cas meant to him anymore; everyone knew and much to Dean's relief, no one seemed to care.  
Charlie came and went, chartering between conventions and her own hunters duty (much to their displeasure). She had inadvertently become quite the fount of knowledge; between her own monster/demon date base she had set up, she was connected to hundreds of hunters around the world, and many where able to simply look through her work and stream line the whole operation.

Sam seemed finally whole again, he spent hours after hours in the library, studying from the old texts Dean had banished when he was recovering. Kevin no longer looked haggard, but sleeping through the night once in awhile will do that to a person.  
It was Cas that had really changed; he seemed happy. Or at least the happiest Dean had seen him before. He hummed while he made breakfast and when he smiled it seemed to reach his eyes.  
The kitchen was always the hubbub of activity in the bunker, gone where the days of greasy diner burgers and carbonated beverages. Dean had found himself to be a quite extraordinary cook and Cas was his ever eager assistant. Always asking what went where and what vegetable tasted best with what entree.  
For awhile, Cas was unable to look Dean in the eye, especially while changing the dressing to his knife wound; the wound that Cas had caused. And no matter how many times Dean would reassure him, Cas's eyes still grew dark at the memory.

"Cas?" Dean asked, searching the man's face as he cleaned the neat stitching on his shoulder, courtesy of his younger brother. "Cas look at me man," Dean groaned, using his free hand to bring Cas's chin up.  
Castiel's eyes where downcast, even as Dean held his chin in place.  
"Its not your fault ok? I don't blame you," He said, as he had so many times before. His shirt had been discarded on the bedroom floor, his naked torso tensed as Cas brushed a soft fingertip over the healing stitches. The brand that overlapped his tattoo was rough and still an angry red; but Crowley had assured them that it had had the desired affect. Dean followed Cas's gaze from the wound on his shoulder, to his chest only to rest on his stomach where the light tracings of the angel banishing sigil left the scar from his belly button his the bottom of his sternum.

"I don't like seeing you scarred, or injured. I cannot simply brush these away anymore,' Cas caressed the soft, marred skin of Dean's stomach, his eyes drawn back to the ugly sigil on his chest. "I hate seeing you marred in a way I cannot fix."

Dean scoffed, "I can handle a few more scars Cas," he muttered.  
Cas shook his head, "Do you know how much scar tissue I fixed when raising you? The badly set bones, the ribs that where barely holding together after far too many breaks? Your liver was nearly destroyed from your years of alcoholism."  
Dean blinked a few times at what he was hearing.  
Castiel finally rose his eyes to his, his gaze finally catching Dean's.  
"Dean,' he whispered softly. "I cannot heal you anymore, I can't make these scars go away."

Dean watched in fascination as Cas's touch ghosted over each and every scar, a shiver running down his spine as he did so.  
"Ya know," Dean cleared his throat, his voice deep. "There are other ways you can make me feel better?"  
Cas tilted his head in confusion and Dean seized the moment, pecking at his lips and grabbing his lower lip in between his teeth.

"Oh!" Cas exhaled, causing Dean to smile and nod his head between soft kisses. Cas took no time in pushing a timid hand through Dean's hair, pressing the back of his neck to deepen the kiss.  
Dean broke their kiss, his eyes screwed shut as the other man's fingers danced across his ribs. Cas was barely more than touching him and he found himself coming undone from the light caresses.

"Fuck feathers..." He whispered, pressing his forehead into the fallen angel's shoulder as he shuddered a ragged breath.  
"Dean," Cas whispered into his ear, "It has been awhile since have been intimate."  
Dean smiled into the other man's shoulder, "Well no time like the present."  
Castiel once again wound a hand through Dean's hair, crashing them together but still mindful of the older Winchester's wounds.

And that is when the door burst open to reveal a heaving Sam Winchester, who immediately covered his eyes with his hand.  
Dean fell back and Cas's hand was suspended in midair where it had only been touching skin moments ago.

"Goddammit Sam!" Roared Dean, his face beat red. "We've talked about this!"  
Sam, with eyes still covered, stuttered out, "You have to come here, right now!"  
Dean through up his hands while Cas glared at the younger Winchester, though Sam couldn't see it Dean was sure he could feel it.  
"What the hell is wrong now? Just need a few minutes Sam, for fucks sake!"  
Cas looked at Dean, "Well I believe I'd prefer more than a few minute-"  
"Not now Cas!" Dean glared, a flush returning to his face.

Sam uncovered his eyes, spotted Dean's shirt and through it at him.  
"Main room, now!" He demanded.  
Dean saw the panicked and bewildered look that Sam had, and gingerly pulled on his shirt, Cas pulling down the side where his arm was too stiff to move properly.  
They followed the impatient Sam to the main entry room, where they both stopped dead in their tracks.  
Charlie, Kevin and even Crowley held either an angel blade or a gun, all focused on the individual in the center of the room.

"No fucking way," Dean muttered, his eyes never leaving the individual.

"Whats crackalackin amigos?" Came a mischievous voice, the owner smiling and popping another hard candy into his mouth. "Miss me?"

"Gabriel?"


End file.
